Study Hard, Party Harder
by Kris Quin
Summary: Winter in South Park leaves much to be desired. The ever-present cold and darkness has left Tweek in a rut. Craig, along with the rest of the student body, is trying to figure out who he is and what he wants out of life. Balancing school, part-time jobs, and social lives leave the kids wantonly struggling with their newfound freedoms.
1. Chapter 1

1.

"You should really come to this party."

"I told my parents that I would help out this weekend at the shop," Tweek mumbled. Craig had been bothering him about this all day. "There's a, um, a benefit. On Saturday."

"Yeah, but the party's on Friday night, so it's not really the weekend then, is it?" he pressed, adjusting his backpack as a few more kids trickled into the classroom and found their seats.

Tweek looked up at Craig from his desk and frowned. "Craig, I - I have to be up early on Saturday."

"And that's why you should go," Craig insisted. He pulled his hat off and stuffed it into his jacket pocket when their teacher made it to the classroom. "You'll be basking in the afterglow of a good time."

Tweek chewed his lip and stared at the corner of the classroom.

"I'll come by and help on Saturday," Craig offered.

Tweek sputtered. "Why? So you can nurse a hangover in front of a bunch of cops? You hate cops. And you don't know the first th-thing about making -"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of the house, then yeah, I'll do it. You can teach me about all the lattes and macchiatos and double shot, non-fat, two-pumps-of-whatever-the-fuck, or I'll just keep you company, whatever." The bell had rung halfway through Craig's insistence, but he kept going on anyway.

Tweek clicked his pen nervously as Craig finally took his seat a row over from him. The lights dimmed and a short movie was put on for the biology class to take notes on. Craig kept trying to catch Tweek's eye.

He caved with a gruff and too-loud "okay." Craig gave him an enthusiastic thumb's up, but his choice of finger, and to whom the gesture was directed, quickly changed when their teacher looked up suspiciously from the desk.

* * *

Craig caught up with him after school. The sun was already dipping toward the mountain peaks, casting everything in a too-long shadow. Daylight was a commodity South Park didn't take for granted, especially in the winter months, which was why Tweek had started to walk home when he felt up to it. He didn't particularly like the cold, or the additional twenty minutes shaved off his day before his parents got home, but he always felt better about himself when he got home rosy-cheeked and winded.

"Do you want a ride?" Craig asked him. He had taken to spinning his keys around his fingers obnoxiously when school let out, letting everyone in his immediate vicinity know that Craig Tucker had a car. Clyde and Token were with him, hanging a few feet back and talking with each other.

Tweek glanced down the street, then back at Craig. "Sure."

Craig tossed his head in the direction of the parking lot and Tweek started off in tow. He was careful to step over a heap of hardened, discolored snow that had been plowed to the edge of the sidewalk.

"You're coming to the party on Friday?" Clyde asked.

"Yeah," Tweek answered quickly.

Token unshouldered his messenger bag as they made it to Craig's car, a slightly rusty beater that was probably as old, if not older, than each of them. "I don't think it's going to be all Cartman's making it out to be," he mumbled, sliding the bag into the middle seat in the back. Clyde circled the car and opened the back, leaving Tweek to stall awkwardly at the passenger side door. "Just because his mom's gone for the weekend doesn't mean he's capable of putting together… I don't know, he's just talking too much."

"Heidi got Kind of Incredible on board to do a show," Clyde said. "Which is actually, you know, _kind of incredible_."

"What?"

Tweek sidled into the seat next to Craig, hugging his backpack to his chest.

"Yeah. Didn't you see the invite?" Clyde asked.

"No. I figured it was a word-of-mouth invite," Token said, leaning over as Clyde unfurled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

Craig started his car on the second try. It squealed to life unreliably under the four of them.

"No way."

"Yeah, way," Craig added, leaning over his seat to look at the hand-written invite scrawled on lined paper. "Kenny's bringing booze. His parents are pretty far gone on Friday nights - I doubt they'd notice."

Token laughed. "Make sure you remind him which bottles are filled with water."

"Heidi said she planned the party anyway. It's just Cartman taking the credit for it, as usual," Craig continued. He turned the heat on full blast. Tweek winced as he got a faceful of freezing air as the car began to warm up.

"How'd she end up roping Kind of Incredible into coming out to South Park?" Token asked, clearly suspicious.

"She ran into them at one of Cartman's football games," Clyde said. He handed the invite to Token. "I don't know, with all the time he spends on the bench, she's got to do something to keep her occupied."

Craig sniggered and Tweek cracked a smile at the jab.

"There's a cover charge?" Token asked, crumpling the paper again. "He's back to trying to make money off us, isn't he?"

"It's for the band," Craig quipped. "Or at least, I think it is. Like I said, Heidi's the mastermind behind all this." He revved the engine a little as warm air began to make its way into the cabin. Craig turned to face Tweek as he put the car in reverse, then braced his hand on Tweek's shoulder as he twisted his neck to watch for other cars as he backed out of his space.

"Still, a little stingy, isn't it?" Token continued.

"Oh, shut up," Clyde groaned. "You sound like Kyle."

"Racist, much?"

"Come on, Token. It's not like you can't afford it. Cartman said you can bring booze to share if you don't want to cough up a few bucks anyway."

Craig took his hand off Tweek's shoulder when they peeled out of the lot. "You doing all right?"

Tweek looked over to Craig who was stealing glances from the road at him. "Yeah, thanks," he answered.

"I thought you said Kenny was bringing booze," Token argued, shifting in his seat. Craig looked into the rearview mirror.

"Put your seatbelt on."

"Well, yeah, he is. But like, one person's not going to supply a whole damn party with alcohol," Clyde responded. "His parents drink too much, but they know how fast they go through their stash."

"All right, all right. I'll see what I can come up with," Token mumbled.

Craig slammed on his brakes as he neared an intersection. Tweek's stomach flipped and he squeezed his bag so tight that he could feel the corner of a textbook digging into his arm.

"Dude!" Token hissed from the back seat.

"It's icy out," Craig answered smugly. "Put your damn seatbelt on. I'm not getting a fucking ticket because you're too proud to wear the damn thing."

"Harsh," Clyde said. "No, but really though. You're going to have to drive us to Cartman's place on Friday."

"Sober ca-a-ab!" Token rang out next to him, gripping at the back of Craig's seat. "No drinky for you!"

"I said I'd get you there," Craig shot back. "Not that I'd get you home."

"For real, man?"

Craig snorted. "I can hold my liquor. But if you toss your cookies in my baby, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you."

"That's a hate crime," Token jibed back. They pulled up to his house and he gathered his messenger bag. "Hope you treat Tweek a little better than you treat your _baby_ ," he continued as he got out, smoothing out the wrinkles in one of his many jackets.

Tweek let out a groan.

Craig pressed his fist against the window, slowly unfurling his middle finger. Token started toward the front door of his big house, laughing, and flipped Craig off too. The tires squealed and Craig pulled off faster than he needed to.

Clyde's house wasn't much farther. Tweek spent the trip mostly quiet as they jeered at each other. When Clyde had disappeared into his house, Tweek took a deep breath as they idled outside on the curb.

"You still doing all right?" Craig asked.

"Yep," Tweek answered. He looked over at Craig. His hair was stuffed messily under his blue hat, sticking out at odd directions. Tweek wasn't sure his hair looked much better.

"Did you wanna go grab a bite?" he offered.

"No, I kinda just want to head home."

"Long day, huh?" Craig asked as they set off a third time.

"Little bit," Tweek answered honestly. He resituated himself in his seat and put his backpack at his feet.

They didn't share too many classes anymore. They both took the basic core classes that the school required, but their interests had drifted apart when they had been given the freedom to choose some of their own courses. Tweek had declined to take additional physical education courses, where Craig excelled and enjoyed himself. When Tweek signed up for a cooking class, Craig had opted to take shop. As a consequence, their core classes had staggered such that they rarely even shared those together. Tweek didn't mind so much; it gave them something to talk about.

"What's goin' on?"

"There's some tests coming up. I've been working a lot and, y'know, just helping with the coffee shop and everything." Tweek pulled his eyes away from Craig and stared out at the snow-covered lawns as they drove. "I don't… I don't really mind, y'know, I-I just haven't had a whole lot of free time lately."

"I've noticed," he started sincerely. "I can come over and help you study if you want," Craig offered.

Tweek snorted.

"Hey, I really mean it. It won't devolve into Call of Duty again. Promise."

"I thought you were into Battlegrounds now," Tweek answered snidely.

"Your laptop's too shitty to play at your house," Craig shot off.

"H-Hey," Tweek hissed. "But it's nice of you to, y'know, offer. I've been having a tough time concentrating… But, I mean, if your notes are like, legible, I wouldn't mind borrowing those for a little bit."

Craig was quiet for a few moments.

"You haven't been taking notes, have you?"

"Naw, not really. There's not really much of a point. None of this stuff is gonna matter in a few years anyway. But I'm not like, failing or anything. Or at least, I don't think so, anyway."

"You don't think so?" Tweek asked suspiciously.

Craig groaned. "No, I'm not failing anything right now. Look, the point is if you're having problems concentrating, I can try to help keep you on track. Like, give you pep talks, bring you snacks, proof-read your stuff, I don't know."

"You c-can read?" Tweek teased. "Besides, I thought you said cheerleading is dumb."

Craig chuckled and shook his head. "It is, okay? But I'll do it for you, if that's what you need."

Tweek chewed his lower lip for a moment, thinking how best to thank Craig for his sincerity. "That's pretty gay, you know."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "It is."

They pulled up to Tweek's two-story purple house and he took his seatbelt off, scooping his backpack up off the floor and slinging it over his back.

"Thanks for the ride," he said quickly. Tweek was turning to head toward his porch, but Craig was getting out of his car.

"Can I ask you something?"

Tweek stopped on his un-shoveled walkway and stared at Craig expectantly. Craig searched his pockets and came up with a crumpled pack of cigarettes, stuck one in his mouth, and leaned away from the cold wind to light it.

"Uh, yeah. Go ahead."

"Do you want to go to the party on Friday?" Craig asked. He exhaled a plume of smoke clumsily and Tweek turned his gaze skyward.

"Yeah, duh. I already t-told you, Craig, I'll go to Cartman's party, okay?"

"No, that's not what I mean." Craig was leaning against his car with his hip, long legs crossed and propped on the curb. "Like, do you actually want to go? I'm not trying to pressure you into it, really. I know it sounds like I am, but that's not what I really mean." His words were coming out in a rush. "I just… Tweek, you said so yourself that you've been busy. You haven't been hanging out with us much, and… and that's okay and everything. I just want to make sure that you're okay. That you have some time to have fun and get your mind off of everything."

Tweek clenched his jaw, a little startled at Craig's words. "Yeah. Yeah, I do want to come."

"Okay." Craig took another painful drag off his cigarette. Tweek wasn't so sure that Craig was actually inhaling the smoke - it seemed to be something that Craig had picked up because he thought it was cool. "Okay, good."

"Yeah. Okay, I'll see you t-tomorrow."

"I'll pick you up," Craig called after him as Tweek started toward his house again. "Tomorrow, for school, I mean. And for the party, too."

"Just be on time," Tweek answered, waving at Craig to leave.

* * *

Craig hadn't been on time. Not to pick him up for school on Thursday, and not on Friday for the party either. He didn't really mind it, not really, but he liked to remind Craig of this because it seemed to bother Craig.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But who ever shows up on time to a party anyway?" Craig blurted as they climbed into his car.

Tweek's mom flickered the porch light a few times as a sendoff. "We still have to get Token and Clyde?"

"Yeah, is that okay?" Craig asked.

Tweek shrugged. "Sure."

They set off. It had been easier than he had wanted it to be to get permission from his parents to go out to a sketchy party on a Friday night, especially knowing full well he had to work the next morning. They hadn't even mentioned it, even as Tweek paid no heed to insisting the party would be supervised, safe, or mundane. Tweek wondered if maybe his parents were on the same page as Craig was, worried he was regressing back to his quiet, reclusive behavior from middle school. Maybe he was. He wasn't worried about it. Tweek learned early on that he needn't - _couldn't_ \- put stock in the opinions of others. Maybe they were just happy that Craig was back in the picture. They liked Craig. They liked that Tweek liked Craig. They liked the complicated tip-toeing that constituted their relationship. Tweek wasn't sure what he thought about that. He supposed he shouldn't care in any case, anyway.

"Tweek?"

"Oh, uh-huh?" He realized Craig had been trying to talk to him.

"I'm excited," Craig said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Tweek smiled a little to himself, looking out the window because Craig rarely talked about his feelings to anyone. It was nice to have a no-holds-bar relationship with someone. He was grateful, in a way.

"Me too," Tweek answered.

Craig turned the radio down a little. "You know, I think this is the first like, real party we've been to together."

"Oh?"

"You know what I mean. It's not like a birthday party where everyone's just, hanging out and playing games and stuff. It's kind of exciting," Craig continued.

Tweek nodded. He started rolling his chapped lower lip between his teeth.

"Are you nervous?" Tweek asked.

Craig sputtered. "What? No!"

"You sound kind of n-nervous. You're talking about it a bunch."

"Oh, come on, Tweek," Craig groaned.

Tweek leaned forward to catch Craig's eye. "You don't know if this is going to be as crazy as it's cracked up to be. Could be more c-crazy, actually. I'm a little nervous," he admitted.

Craig was quiet for a moment. "You're nervous?" he asked slowly.

"Well, yeah. I haven't really been to a _party_ party before," Tweek explained. He palmed his knees a bit to keep them from sweating too much.

"What, really?"

"Yeah. Why, is that weird?" Tweek asked earnestly.

"No," Craig blurted. "No, it's not weird at all, actually."

Tweek watched the streetlights pass above him for a moment before asking, "Where have you been to parties before, anyway?"

"Oh, I mean, we go to Cartman's football games sometimes. Even if he doesn't really play, he's still a part of the team, and y'know… one thing leads to another," Craig answered behind a chuckle.

"I have a feeling most of the team is more in it for those parties, then," Tweek said.

Craig laughed. "Yeah, that's probably why we've lost like, every game this year."

Tweek let out a noise of agreement.

Craig glanced over at him as they idled at a streetlight. "Would you want to go to a football game sometime?"

"Oh, I don't really care about sports, C-Craig," Tweek answered with a shrug.

"Yeah, I know. I mean, I don't really care too much about it myself, but it's kinda nice. It's cold out-"

Tweek fussed at that.

"But there's hot chocolate, and grilled hotdogs," Craig recovered. "Popcorn. _Coffee_. It'll be nice. Stan and Kyle asked me about you the other day - we haven't gotten together as a group for a while."

"Okay," Tweek answered, mostly to end the conversation. They were pulling into Clyde's driveway. Before they even stopped, he came barrelling out of the house with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Took you fucking long enough!" Clyde howled. His bag clinked suspiciously as he slid it across the bench seat. "And you don't have Token yet, either. Jesus Christ, we're going to miss the damn party!"

"Dude, chill. We'll get there," Craig huffed, the affection gone from his voice.

"Hey, Tweek," Clyde grinned and shuffled through his bag as they pulled back out onto the dark, snowy streets. He came up with a bottle.

"Hey," Tweek replied, glancing into the back seat.

"Want some?" He took a pull of the beer and thrust it toward Tweek over the center console.

"N-No, thanks," Tweek answered quickly, facing forward again as he started to fidget.

"Dude. Open container," Craig hissed.

"Rela-a-ax," Clyde hummed, taking another long pull off his drink.

"Not your car. You spill that, I'm leaving you on the side of the road."

"Oh, so the legality of the situation isn't what bothers you?" Clyde drawled, twirling the bottle in his hand. After another sip, he shoved the bottle cap clumsily overtop the bottle's mouth. "Nothin' wrong with a little pregame action."

They slowed to a stop outside Token's house, who came out looking dressed to kill. He always dressed nicely, but he'd combed out his hair and donned a pair of expensive-looking slacks. Everything about him looked expensive.

"Dude, way to show us all up," Clyde grumbled, shifting in his seat to face Token.

"It's not my fault you buy graphic T's and ratty jeans," Token answered melodically.

Tweek looked down at his own jeans. A fray was beginning to form on his left knee. He thought his shirt was pretty nice though - a button down, _buttoned correctly_ , in pale green with little designs decorating it somewhat randomly.

"Well, _I_ think you look nice, Tweek," Craig drawled. Tweek looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"Gross," Clyde moaned from the back.

"What, you jealous?" Craig continued, staring at him pointedly in the rearview mirror.

Clyde groaned loudly. "Fuck, no dude, just drive."

"Are you shitfaced already?" Token asked. Tweek was thankful the attention was turned off him.

"I already said there's nothing wrong with pregaming," Clyde mumbled. He held up the bottle he'd opened in the car.

"There is if you don't share!" Token huffed, scrambling to get ahold of the bottle.

Craig slammed on the brake again as they approached a stoplight. "No food or drink in my car!"

Tweek shrank into his seat a bit. When Craig finished glaring down the two in the backseat, he put his hand on Tweek's knee and mouthed a silent "sorry."

Clyde and Token continued to antagonize each other in the back seat. Tweek had acknowledged that Craig was much less talkative when there were other people around. It was something that he had become comfortable with long ago. It was a little comforting, actually, knowing that he was privy to a side of himself that Craig typically kept hidden. Tweek suspected he did much the same, though it wasn't intentional. He was quiet because he had too much to say, and it usually came out all at once, and it was just easier to keep it to himself. Clyde and Token, Tweek supposed, were loud and talkative because they didn't have much to say at all.

They arrived after a few more minutes. Tweek tried to fight the knot growing in the pit of his stomach, but it returned in full force at the long lines of cars parked up and down the otherwise deserted residential street. Cartman's house was brightly lit. There were kids outside, talking, laughing, smoking, drinks in their hands. There were no doubt much more inside, and Tweek wasn't exactly sure he was comfortable with the idea.

Clyde came tumbling out of the car before they had even found a parking spot. Token sighed in annoyance, apologized to Craig, and climbed out after Clyde. Tweek watched the two of them struggling with the bag of alcohol between them across the icy street, through the snow, and up the steps to the house.

"Man, I think you're right," Craig mumbled, glancing over to Tweek. "This might be a bit more than I was bargaining for."

Tweek let out a small noise somewhere between worry and agreement. Craig found a parking spot in front of someone's mailbox and lamented that he should probably find a different space, but he hoped they'd be fine. Tweek could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Hey, Tweek?"

It was a casual question, with Craig's eyes focused only briefly on Tweek. "Thanks. I know this isn't really our type of thing, but, you know," Craig trailed off briefly, his grin easy, "we can't let it pass us by now, can we? Come on."

Tweek took a deep breath and pulled himself out of the passenger side of Craig's familiar car. He'd been to Cartman's place, but not like this. They walked a few more paces together toward the party. The _party_ party. From this distance, Tweek narrowed his eyes and could distinguish through the continued obscurity, a rush of well-dressed girls, all glitter and shine. He felt a bit underdressed for a moment, but reminded himself that it didn't matter. He took a moment to turn toward Craig silently, which solidified the notion that no, tonight would not be like any normal Friday night. Craig's smile widened, Tweek's worry deepened, and he had to pick up his pace to match Craig's expedited gait toward the buzz of queuing students Tweek could hardly recognize.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

It was clearly a big deal. That much was established right from the get-go: the pulsating mix of electronic music and hip-hop beats, the throng of warm and bold dancing bodies, the dimness of the expansive rooms that made everything seem so much closer… The intermingling scent of smoke and alcohol, the laughter. It was all very imminent, all very close, and very overwhelmingly new.

The guy at the door in a varsity football jacket had waved them inside, grunting something about Token paying their dues. Tweek tried to solidify a mental note to thank him later. They were an hour late, with a whole, incredibly daunting night ahead of them, and there was so much to do, it seemed.

Tweek idled beside a bookshelf along the outskirts of the living room - now makeshift dance floor - attempting to wrap his brain around the situation for a long moment. It was difficult to truly process anything with all the body heat emanating from around him. He didn't see a live band anywhere in the room.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Craig touched his shoulder, leaning in close. "Hey, Tweek. I'm gonna take a look around first," Craig strained over the music, hastily pointing off in one direction of the room. A smaller alcove was around the corner, and it seemed a tiny bit less densely populated than where they currently stood. The kitchen. "You can come if you want."

Tweek supposed Craig wasn't the slightest bit surprised that he followed closely behind. Tweek suspected Craig had anticipated it. Odd as it was, Tweek could never quite fathom the words or rationale as to why he felt the way that he did; he felt almost obligated, like Craig was his mentor through strange times. He would never admit it, of course, his sense of pride and own tendency to keep these things quiet wouldn't allow it, but Tweek was certain that Craig knew his constant efforts to steer Tweek in the right direction weren't going unnoticed.

The right direction being, of course, anywhere but the comforting confines of Tweek's bedroom.

"Yo! Craig, Tweek!" Clyde was grinning from ear to ear, his arms flung over the shoulders of Stan and Kyle, who were both talking to a girl, completely unphased by the exchange. The two looked up upon hearing their names though, looking delighted to see them both.

"I don't know how it's possible, but you look even worse than you did five minutes ago," Craig chuckled. Clyde broke away from Stan and Kyle and stumbled to the countertop. Tweek was pulled into the fold.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Kyle said with a smile and nod in the direction of the living room. "I didn't think they'd actually pull it off."

"Well, that makes two of us," Craig admitted. Kyle handed him a solo cup.

"Doesn't look like you've had anything to drink yet."

"Thanks, man." Craig accepted it gratefully. "Bebe, you look great tonight."

She smiled at him, laughing prettily. "Not so bad yourself. And Tweek, I like your shirt!"

"Thank you," Tweek said, careful to keep his eyes from roaming her outfit too much. "Your shirt is, uh, nice too."

"So how've you been?" Stan butted in, glancing between Tweek and Craig expectantly. "I haven't seen you guys out much lately. Not trying to bring anything up that you don't want to talk about or anything, I don't know, it's just nice to see you both."

"No, yeah, I feel that," Craig answered easily. "Just a lot of work going on, you know? Tweek's been helping out at the coffee shop a lot. He can make a mean caramel-frapp-fuck-me-up."

Tweek felt the color rise in his face, and he wasn't sure quite why. Stan laughed and took a swig from his drink.

"Yeah, just busy, I guess," Tweek said, a few beats too late, eyes still trying to adjust to the busyness of his surroundings.

"Here, I got these for you," Clyde announced, returning to their group. He was clutching two plastic cups filled with a pink, bubbling liquid. Craig lifted his beer to show he already had a drink, to which Clyde grumbled, still insisting that Craig take the concoction that he'd created. Craig polished off the beer and accepted. Tweek awkwardly took the other drink, but didn't take a sip. He was more grateful just to have something to do with his hands.

"Cartman said that Kind of Incredible is setting up downstairs. They'll be playing at eleven-thirty," Bebe said, twirling a piece of her hair in her fingers.

"Yeah? That sounds sick. How'd Cartman get them to come?" Craig asked, more for conversation's sake.

"Oh, you know Heidi," Bebe said with a wink and a smug smile. She patted Stan on the back before excusing herself and ducking away from the group.

Craig shrugged and took a long drink from the bubbly that Clyde had given him. Stan and Kyle seemed a little uncomfortable with Clyde hanging off of them, which Tweek contented himself with studying. Watching someone else squirm was one of the few things that alleviated his own anxiety.

"So d'you guys have any plans for winter break?" Craig asked, slipping his free hand to rest in the middle of Tweek's back.

"Not really, no. Sleeping 'til noon and playing Battleground in my boxers until dinner, y'know, the usual," Kyle answered with a chuckle.

"I was thinking about taking a trip to Denver," Craig offered. Tweek glanced up at him. "We could plan something fun if you guys are interested. Stan, you've got wheels too, right?"

"Yeah, man. That sounds like fun."

"I bet we could get Kenny in on it too - he's always coming up with whacky shit."

Tweek glanced over Stan's shoulder. The aforementioned Kenny was making his way down the hall, poised much the same way as Clyde, but with two girls under his arms. His hair had grown and he wasn't bundled up in his usual bright orange parka. He was laughing comfortably.

"Speak of the devil," Stan announced.

The two girls flanking Kenny went on ahead when he let go of them. "What is up, my dudes?" Kenny drawled, delivering a sound punch to Stan's shoulder. "Not nearly as many drinks in you as there should be, and not as many girls, either."

Stan finished the drink he had in his hand and Kenny sent another one his way.

"Except for you, Clyde. You're looking the correct amount of _fucked up_ as you should be."

Clyde shot Kenny a pair of finger guns before peeling himself off Stan and Kyle and making his way to the drink counter again.

"That guy," Kenny laughed absently, shaking his head. "Hey, what's up Tweek? Good to see you."

Tweek tensed as Kenny shook his shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. "H-Hey, Kenny. You're looking… red."

"It's the alcohol," Kenny admitted with a laugh. "The hell are you all doing in here anyway, standing around like a buncha lame ass cunts? Go dance!" He nudged Stan along with him. Kyle gave Craig and Tweek a sheepishly playful shrug and went in after them.

"Not as bad as you thought, huh?" Craig asked as he rounded on Tweek.

He forced out a smile which came with a half-hearted chuckle. "No, precisely as b-bad as I'd expected."

"Oh, well. Good, I think." Craig finished his drink and grabbed a beer from the counter. "Do you want to dance?"

Tweek eyed Craig's third drink with reserve. "I, um, I don't really know how."

"Neither do I, but this helps," Craig said, gesturing to his beer.

Tweek looked at the drink in his own hand and tried to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. He didn't know how to explain to Craig that he didn't want to - _couldn't_ \- be drinking tonight. He figured he could get away with blaming it on having work the next day. Tweek followed Craig out to the living room.

He was used to Craig taking the lead. It was easier all around, Tweek had convinced himself, but he couldn't help trying to shake the feeling that Craig would be having a lot more fun without him here. The thought didn't keep Tweek from at least _trying_ to have fun, though, as he found a rhythm of swaying and bobbing that wouldn't spill any more of the drink that had already soaked a patch at the bottom of his shirt. He found it easier if he closed his eyes. A few faces he recognized from school bobbed into his view when he opened them from time to time. Craig initiated a few quirky and awkward dances with them. They danced like that for what felt like much too long to Tweek.

The lights went on in the house all at once mid-song, and Tweek's stomach dropped, thinking maybe the cops had come to tell them to leave. He was almost comforted by the thought while everyone looked around. The music had stopped.

"Arright, ladies and assholes!" Cartman's voice drifted from the top of the staircase. Some whooping and cheering followed. "Kind of Incredible will be starting in a few minutes. Thanks for coming. Show them some love, but not before I get down there first."

Heidi was at his side in a pretty dress. She chuckled, and laughter resounded around Tweek. "What? No, I'm serious. Seriously guys!"

Cartman shuffled down the stairs. Most of his baby weight had left him, but his painful awkwardness and bumbling motions hadn't. Tweek clenched his teeth to keep from laughing.

Tweek checked his watch. "It's almost midnight," Craig said, surprised.

"Yeah."

Craig tugged Tweek toward the basement by his forearm, skirting past the bulk of the queue and toward Token, who greeted them from the front of the line with a mostly sober "hey, guys."

The basement was already crowded. Tweek had ditched his drink already, left forgotten on one of the many bookshelves with pictures of Cartman and his mom smiling cheerily at some American landmark. Craig hadn't seemed to notice. Tweek did notice, however, that Craig had started in on a fourth drink. His mouth felt dry with something that wasn't thirst.

The band began to tune. It was two kids - brothers, if Tweek remembered correctly - one on a guitar, and one on a drumset. They were young, maybe a year or two older than Tweek, but they didn't look it. Some girls to his right started to gush about them, how talented the band was, how they bought tickets to a show that they were opening for, and more that Tweek decided he was going to tune out. Craig squeezed his arm reassuringly between chatting with Token and taking swigs from his beer.

When the lights went down, the music started up, and it got so loud that Tweek couldn't hear his own thoughts rattling around his head. People started jumping around him, yelling, and the only thing Tweek managed to enunciate in his head was how he was glad that they were in the basement, on cold, hard cement, and that he was pretty sure that the living room floor would cave with this amount of action.

He lasted precisely two songs before Tweek thought his brain was going to explode from the seizure-inducing lights and squeaky audio. He started to back up, pressing through the crowd. Craig reached for Tweek's arm again, doing a double-take when he realized Tweek wasn't handling the show well.

Craig tried to shout over the music, sincere concern on his face, but Tweek shook his head violently and continued to push his way to the stairs. "You can stay, it's f-fine!" Tweek tried to shout at Craig, but the sound was lost. Craig skirted around front of Tweek and parted the crowd much more easily until they made it to the stairs.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just… I can't be down there," Tweek admitted.

"What?"

Tweek rolled his eyes and tugged Craig up the stairs and back into the living room. It was still loud, but Tweek could finally hear his own thoughts again, now coupled with a persistent and annoying ringing in his ears.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't be down there," Tweek repeated.

The living room and kitchen were sparsely populated now. There were a few people sitting on the couch, facing each other, cigarettes in hand. The window was open, allowing a brief and welcomed reprieve from the sweaty heat of gyrating bodies downstairs. They seemed conscientious enough to blow their smoke outside and ash into the beer cans settled on precariously placed knees.

"That's fine," Craig said. He touched Tweek's upper arm and grinned stupidly. Tweek inched away from the touch. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing's wrong," Tweek said. "Really, honestly. It's just a bit much for me. This is new," he continued, gesturing around him. "And that, down there, is just…"

"I get it," Craig answered, setting off to the kitchen. Tweek stood his ground, worrying his lip.

"Really!" he called, looking over the bottles strewn across the countertop again. "I get it. It was a little much for me, too. It's okay."

Tweek took a deep breath and followed Craig into the kitchen. Kenny was seated at the dining room table with the two girls from before, and a few more people Tweek barely recognized, looking lazily at the two new additions to the kitchen.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Craig asked, gesturing for Tweek to step in beside him.

"Uh, there's actually something that I've been meaning to talk to you about, Craig," Tweek mumbled. He ran his fingers along the smooth marble counter until they encountered something sticky, which me promptly wiped off on his jeans with a frown.

"Uh-huh." Craig had selected a bottle of dark orange liquid, which he poured into a (probably already used) cup, before topping it off with cola. "Do you want a sip?"

"N-No, thanks. That's what -"

"Craig, Tweek," Kenny called merrily from the table. "Come sit with us. I have to introduce you to these lovely… _angels_."

Tweek glanced over at Kenny, then back to Craig. Craig shrugged and stepped over to the table, pulling a chair out for Tweek to sit down first.

"Such a gentleman," Kenny laughed.

"Oh! You're the couple that's always the talk of the town!" exclaimed one of the girls excitedly.

"What," Tweek deadpanned. He didn't take the chair that was offered to him, instead electing to stand.

Kenny laughed. "Hold up now, no need to go embarrassing the guy."

"What do you mean?" Tweek pressed.

"Oh, come on. South Park's cutest gay couple," she pressed, nursing her own drink.

Tweek scoffed. Craig seemed unaffected, still trying to pawn the drink he'd made off on Tweek. Tweek finally relented, figuring having just one probably wasn't such a bad idea. Craig looked satisfied, then disappeared.

Tweek looked at the girl. Her hair was long, black, with pieces that were dyed here and there. Tweek didn't really know what to make of her. He took a sip from what he presumed was a rum and coke, suppressed a little cough, and finally sat down.

"I'm not… not really, I don't know," Tweek said, more to himself than to her.

She looked intrigued. Kenny butted in with a, "Not what? Not drunk enough to have this conversation?"

"Sure, K-Kenny," Tweek mumbled over the rim of his cup, "let's go with that."

"Well, what's stopping you?"

Craig took a seat next to Tweek with his own identical drink. He looked up at Craig pleadingly.

"Aw, come on, Kenny. Leave Tweek alone," Craig insisted. "What have you been up to, anyway? I haven't seen you around much."

Kenny shrugged, glancing at the two girls on either side of him. "I dunno, just having a good time, man."

"Here, here," Craig chuckled. He raised his drink to Kenny, who took his own and clinked them together. Kenny leaned farther forward, gesturing for Tweek to follow suit. He did, hesitantly, and took a much smaller drink from his than the other two did. Tweek checked his watch again. It was almost one.

"So I was mentioning to the guys earlier about taking a weekend trip down to Denver or something," Craig said, swishing his solo cup from side to side. "What do you think? Like, over winter break, or something."

"Yeah, man, I'd be down for that. I try to head down to the city every other month or so. The dispensaries don't card if you know where to look." Kenny laughed, winking at the girl who had been heckling Tweek a few moments ago.

"Oh, man. I haven't smoked up in a while," Craig admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But that sounds fun. We could rent a couple of hotel rooms, smoke a bit, get hammered. Hey, have you ever been snowboarding high?"

"No," Kenny admitted thoughtfully.

"Me neither. But I think I just found something else to put on my to-do list."

Tweek started to chew on his thumb nail, weighing his options of whether to polish off his drink.

"Did you want to rip a dinger right now?" Kenny asked, getting to his feet. "I brought my dugout."

Craig glanced at Tweek, who pulled his thumb out of his mouth. "I think that sounds like fun. I think we could both use a little fresh air right now."

Tweek nodded in agreement as he got to his feet, drink in hand. He thought better of it though as Kenny and Craig headed toward the front door. Tweek took another pull before setting the cup inconspicuously amidst a growing pile of abandoned drinks on the counter before following them outside.

Tweek let the front door slam behind him, close enough to Craig that he watched him have to catch himself on the banister on the way down. He started to worry his lip again.

At the entrance to the driveway, there was a loose circle of people standing and smoking, someone laying down in the middle of them. As they drew nearer, Tweek recognized it as Stan. He was laughing, a cigarette or joint in hand, the other balled into a fist behind his head. Craig started laughing as they approached.

"Had a few too many there, Stan?" Craig asked.

"Naw," he answered from the ground, still looking skyward. "I'm not as drunk as I could be. As I should be, anyway. It's fucking hot in that house."

There was a collective nod in agreement.

Kenny pulled a small, rectangular wooden box from his pocket. He twisted the top, which moved aside. A ceramic cylinder sprung out, which, on closer inspection, looked like a little clay cigarette to Tweek. He watched as Kenny pushed it into the other hole in the wooden box, twisting it around with his fingers, before pulling it out.

"You can go first, if you want," Kenny offered, handing it off to Craig. He took it and put it between his lips, hand still extended for a lighter.

"Shit," Kenny said, searching his pockets. "You know what? I forgot my fucking light."

Craig chuckled again. Tweek put his hands in his pockets and raised his shoulders to his ears to conserve heat. "It's all right. I think I got one."

Tweek watched as Craig came up from his pockets with a lighter. He looked away when Craig took a deep drag though, preferring to study the faint dust of snow that was falling in the distant street lamps. Craig coughed softly a few times before handing it back to Kenny.

"You smoke?" Kenny asked. "Cigarettes, I mean."

"Yeah," Craig answered, with the slightest bit of misplaced pride in his tone. "Turkish Royals. You?"

"No, not really," Kenny said. "I dunno. I'd rather like, give my money to a small business, you know? Major corporations run the tobacco industry." Some of the group spared Kenny an annoyed glance from their conversations. "I buy kush from like, ma and pop shops."

"Oh, such a contributing member of society," Craig drawled sarcastically.

"Seriously, though," Kenny insisted. "But I mean, if you're offering. I'll smoke them, I just won't buy them."

Craig pulled his half-empty pack from his pocket and handed it to Kenny. They took turns taking pulls from the oney and cigarette they were sharing. Tweek took care to place himself out of the path their smoke curled.

"Could I get one too?" Stan asked, flicking his fingers lazily from the ground.

"Sure, man." Craig lit a cigarette before handing it to Stan, who took a few drags and sputtered.

"Jesus Christ, why do people smoke these?"

"Thou shall not take our Lord's name in vain!" a voice called from farther up the driveway, followed by the sound of someone running on the pavement. Tweek, Craig, and Kenny turned to see Kyle jogging toward them before steadying his stance, letting the ice carry him forward, sliding along on his sneakers.

Kenny stepped easily out of his path, causing Kyle to crash into Stan, landing right atop him.

"Fuck, dude!" Stan yelled scrambling to keep his cigarette from falling and burning Kyle, who was laughing. He peeled himself off of Stan and sat next to him on his ass.

"I th-thought you were Jewish," Tweek put in quietly.

Craig started laughing. "Yeah, man, what gives?"

"I dunno," Kyle admitted reaching to take a drag off Stan's cigarette. "I thought it was funny at the time."

"Well, I'm not bumming you a cigarette too," Craig added matter-of-factly. Kyle flipped him off behind a mock-scowl. Craig returned the gesture.

"Hey, Tweek, do you want one?" Kenny asked as he repacked the oney.

"No thanks," Tweek said quickly. "But thank you f-for asking."

"Yeah, no problem, bud."

They stood like that in comfortable, but cold, silence for a few moments.

"You know, I could get used to this," Kenny remarked slowly. "We all need to hang out more often."

"Agreed," added Craig. "But holy fuck, I'm good on the green right now. Like I said, it's been a while."

Kenny laughed and lit up once more as Craig put out his cigarette, grinding it into the driveway with his boot. When he leaned over to pick it up, he misjudged the distance and almost fell forward. Tweek put his hand on Craig's shoulder and picked it up for him.

"Thanks," Craig said sheepishly, taking the smooshed butt to the cigarette back. He turned toward the house so he could deposit it into one of the trash bins, arm looping around Tweek's shoulder as he did so. Tweek steeled himself a moment, but allowed himself to relax.

"Are you having fun?" Craig asked honestly.

"Yeah," Tweek answered. "I mean, I'd be having more fun playing COD with you right now, but yeah. I am."

Craig pursed his lips a moment. "Did you want to head back inside? It's kinda cold out."

"Yeah, that sounds nice, actually."

Craig gave Tweek's shoulder a squeeze and they took the steps to the front door together. Tweek wasn't so sure if the gesture was out of affection, or if Craig just needed some guidance getting back into the house. The couch in the living room was empty when they got back inside. The walls and floor were vibrating with the music downstairs, punctured rhythmically with the beat of the snare drum.

Tweek sat down and spread his legs out, stretching them momentarily as Craig plopped down beside him. "I'm glad you're having fun," Craig continued, a faraway look on his face.

"Thanks. I think I've gotten my socializing done for the rest of the year though," Tweek answered with a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Craig made a small, contented noise. "You know what would make tonight even more fun?" he asked.

Tweek was quiet for a moment, waiting for Craig to say something. He wasn't usually someone for rhetorical questions.

"What?" Tweek asked after a slightly uncomfortable amount of time had passed.

"Oh! Haha," Craig wiped his forehead sheepishly. "Hang on."

He made to get up in the direction of the kitchen, but Tweek caught his sleeve. "I, um. Craig, I think you've h-had enough."

Craig looked taken aback for a moment, glancing between Tweek and the kitchen. "Okay…"

Tweek backpedaled in his head for a second before letting go of Craig's sleeve. "I mean… I guess, nevermind. It's, uh, it's your body," he said, looking away quickly to the corner of the room opposite Craig.

"No, you're probably right," Craig said more warmly than Tweek thought he deserved. "Hang tight."

Tweek watched the group outside through the cracked window. He could hear fragmented pieces of their conversation drifting up toward him and the cherries on their smokes bobbing as they gestured with their hands. Craig came back with another mixed drink and handed it to Tweek, who looked up, surprised.

"Oh. Yeah, Craig. I wanted to tell you. Um, I can't really drink all that much."

"I know, I know," Craig insisted. "You have work tomorrow. But I told you, I'll be there to help you out. Promise. It's okay to get a little shitfaced and rowdy once in awhile. Your parents would understand. Hell, they'd probably applaud you." Craig flopped down on the couch next to Tweek, legs propped on the ottoman, which boxed Tweek in a bit. Tweek didn't mind.

"No, it's not that," Tweek answered, sniffing the drink cautiously. "You know how I've been kinda, uhh… how do I put this?"

Craig looked at him silently, eyes unfocused, but intent nonetheless.

"I dunno, a little out of it lately?" Tweek continued.

"Well, sure," Craig said honestly. "If that's what you want to call it."

Tweek scrunched up his nose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Craig's eyes went wide. "No, that's not what I meant. I just… I know you've been feeling weird lately. I just didn't know if you were like, trying to quantify it, I guess? I don't know, just ignore me. Go on."

"Well, a couple weeks ago, I started trying this d-different medication," Tweek answered honestly. "It isn't really a big deal though, so like, you don't have to worry or anything. Really. It just says on the pill bottle that I can't really drink alcohol with it. Th-That's all."

Craig grinned. "Good Lord, I thought you were gonna tell me something that's bad news bears."

Tweek smiled and looked at his feet, palming the cup between both his hands.

"I mean, that's just a precaution though," Craig continued. "My little sister is on something that keeps her from bouncing off the damn walls all day, and she's drank with me a few times, so it's fine. I think it's more of like a, I don't know, don't-do-it-all-the-time-or-the-meds-might-not-work-right kind of thing."

"Wait, you let your little sister drink with you?" Tweek asked suspiciously.

"Well, you know how my parents are," Craig said dismissively. "Or, my mom, anyway. Y'know, 'better do it at home where my baby is safe than out in dangerous real world for the first time.'"

"Huh." Tweek looked at the clear liquid in his drink. "Well, what is it?"

"It's a vodka-soda," Craig said. "They were out of cola."

Tweek tried the drink tentatively. "This tastes n-nasty."

Craig shrugged. "Yeah, vodka generally does."

The front door opened. Most of the smoking circle was making their way back inside. A few trickled downstairs after getting their drinks, but Kenny found his way to the two of them with a few girls in tow. He settled onto the couch close enough to Craig that he had to move so their thighs weren't touching.

"So, how are the two love-birds doing?" Kenny cooed, accepting a drink from a pretty girl that sat down close to him.

"Aw, man, dude. Give it a rest, we get that shit too much in school as it is," Craig grumbled.

"Sorry," Kenny said, raising his hands in mock-defeat. "I didn't realize it was such a touchy subject. I'm just trying to get my bearings straight… err, _gay_ , here."

"Bro."

Kenny snickered. "Oh come on, that was a good one."

Tweek took a long, deep drink from the vodka soda. He cringed as it went down, but it gave him the opportunity to stare at the floor.

"Really, though. I honestly just want to know what the status is here. I mean, if it's none of my business, like, that's fine, I'll butt out. Hah… _butt_." Kenny laughed to himself for a moment. Craig turned to him, starting to get irritated. "No, honestly. Really, truly, from the bottom of my nosy little heart, I'm just wondering how the two of you have been doing."

"We're fine," Craig answered firmly.

"I'd say b-better than fine," Tweek put in with a small smile. Craig turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"Okay, better than fine," Craig reiterated.

"Is Craig treating you right, Tweek?" Kenny asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Craig cut in quickly.

"Let him answer the damn question, Craig," Kenny remarked, lifting a hand for Craig to be quiet.

Tweek eyed the exchange with a small degree of mortification. He'd seen Craig throw hands, hell, even at Tweek, for something less offensive than this. Tweek supposed it was only undercut by the fact that Craig honestly looked curious as to what he would say to Kenny.

What was he supposed to say? Tweek took another drink from his cup, realizing he'd bottomed out a second drink in… Shit, in a half hour. He was starting to get a little dizzy thinking about how dizzy he was about to be when the alcohol hit full force.

"I, uh… I'm not really sure that's something that needs to b-be discussed," Tweek said. "I mean, have you spent any time with Craig before? He's a pretty great g-guy. He offered to help at the coffee shop tomorrow for the benefit, and, well, he's helping me a little with school."

"No shit?" Kenny asked, looking over at Craig. "You? Helping someone with school?"

"Dude, just can it already."

"Really, though. We've had our ups and downs the past couple years," Tweek continued. "But he's always had my back when I-I've needed it. I care about him a lot, and I guess that's how a relationship should be."

Tweek pushed down the blush that was starting to form on his cheeks at the sight of Craig staring at him, mouth open just a little.

"Well, shit. I guess you're right," Kenny agreed. "Do you love him?"

Tweek's attention snapped back to Kenny. "W-What kind of q-question is that?"

"Sorry," Kenny mumbled.

"No," Tweek sighed, "I do, though. Since you asked and… and I don't want this like, awkward tension and whatever you're trying to do here to hang over m-me all night. So, yeah, Craig, I love you, man. And I'm… I'm really glad I came out here tonight because I'm having a g-great time."

Kenny grinned from ear to ear and leaned back into the couch. "No awkward tensions intended, Tweek, really. I just, I dunno. I wanted you two to work out for like, a really long time. And I'm glad. Really, I'm happy to hear it."

Craig cleared his throat. He got up and glanced at Tweek before shuffling off.

"I think you scared him away," Kenny teased. He wrapped his arm around the girl next to him and squeezed her close.

Tweek shook his head with a small smile and stared at his shoes until Craig came back. He sat on the other side of Tweek this time, pressing another drink into Tweek's hands. Tweek stacked his cups together so they'd take up less space.

"I think I'm starting to like drunk Tweek," Craig said playfully, just quiet enough that he hoped Kenny wouldn't hear him. Tweek took a sip and watched Craig do the same.

"You're not supposed to drink anymore tonight," Tweek protested.

"Well, I already poured it, so either I'm going to drink it, or you're going to have to," Craig said smugly. He sipped again and pulled out of reach as Tweek tried to take the cup from him.

"You better be s-sober enough to get to work tomorrow," Tweek warned.

Craig leaned in close enough that Tweek could feel his breath on his face. "I should say the same thing to you."

Tweek huffed and turned away from him.

"I have to take a piss," Tweek announced. He struggled off the couch, suddenly feeling much more uncoordinated than he had a few moments prior. Craig caught his arm and lead him to the stairs.

"You all right?" Craig asked as Tweek clutched his shoulder in one hand, the bannister in the other. "That last drink probably wasn't a good idea," he admitted.

"S'fine."

"No, I mean for me, too."

Tweek looked up at him with his eyes huge and glassy at the top of the stairs. "What?"

"The drinks."

"Oh, no," Tweek said, turning away to try a door handle. Craig wasn't sure he knew which one was the bathroom, but he'd been right on his guess. "I'm good right now."

Craig chuckled to himself and slid inside after Tweek. "Dude. You really are, though." He leaned against the sink, facing the shower while Tweek fumbled with his belt. "Is it good, though? Like, are you feeling good?"

Tweek was wobbly enough on his feet sober, so he made the conscious decision to sit down to piss. Craig didn't seem to notice. "Yeah," he started, running a hand through his hair. It felt so good that he did it a second time. "I dunno, I feel kinda… weird."

Tweek rebuckled his pants, conscious of the fact that Craig had most definitely snuck a peek at his ass. "What kind of weird?" Craig asked.

"C-Craig, I don't fuckin' know, okay?" Tweek managed. He elbowed Craig away from the sink so he could wash his hands. "Just weird. And you're being weird, too."

"I'm being weird?" Craig repeated, bemused. Tweek realized he'd put too much soap on his hands and had to run them under the lukewarm water longer than he wanted to.

"Yeah." Tweek huffed, knowing that Craig was probably just teasing him. He shut the sink off and turned to Craig to give him a suspicious side-eye.

"How so?"

Tweek couldn't reach the towels. They were hanging on a rack behind Craig. He felt like he was seeing Craig through new eyes - his lankiness, his broad shoulders, the constant smug nonchalance that Craig wore as often as his blue knitted hat. Tweek's eyes narrowed, and he went for it.

"Dude, not cool," Craig groaned as Tweek wiped his wet hands on his T-shirt.

"You were blocking the towels," Tweek said.

Craig clutched the hem of his shirt and stretched it in front of him, examining the wet handprints down the length of the blue fabric. He looked back up at Tweek.

"So… are you going to move now, or…?"

Craig shook his head. He pulled his shirt off easily, eyebrows raised in challenge. Tweek opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had already felt the corners of his mind distort and go hazy, so much so that he nearly felt like a different person altogether. But now he felt a bit light-headed, unaccustomed to the bright fluorescence in the bathroom and the superfluous amount of alcohol pumping through his system.

"Um…" Though he felt he should say something, Tweek found no coherent reason to protest the course of events unfolding in his drunken mind.

Craig moved first, and Tweek didn't know what to do with himself, or even if he could do anything at all if he'd wanted to. Craig closed the short distance between them easily and Tweek felt him cup the sweaty nape of Tweek's neck, bringing him in for a kiss. It was chaste, and Tweek knew that this wasn't their first, but he felt a rush go to his head and he wondered briefly if he was going to pass out.

Craig pulled away a small ways, "Are you okay?'

"...Yeah?"

"You're stiff as a board," Craig said.

"What?" Tweek squeaked, one of his hands going to cover the front of his jeans.

"Oh, God," Craig laughed, pulling away and covering his eyes. "No, that's not what I meant."

"Oh." Tweek lifted his hands and inspected them curiously for a moment. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Craig reassured. He began to shake his shirt out in the small bathroom, careful not to hit Tweek with his uncoordinated movements. Tweek tried to occupy his attention on the details in the tiled bathroom floor. Eventually, Craig pulled his shirt back over his chest.

"Better?"

"Not really, no," Tweek answered honestly.

"Huh. You're a confusing guy, Tweek," Craig said. He moved to open the door and Tweek stepped out.

For a moment, Tweek forgot where he was altogether. He shuffled awkwardly around a girl jumping up and down outside the bathroom and skirted toward the stairs, a permanent Craig-and-alcohol-induced blush across his cheeks. The descent back to the couch left Tweek feeling even more uneasy in his own skin. The living room had become more crowded since they left.

"I saved your seats," Kenny lauded to himself as they settled in.

Tweek grunted something out that could have been considered a thank you. He curled his legs into himself and watched someone adjusting a beer bottle on the ottoman. Craig pressed himself into the couch, prompting Tweek to squeeze his eyes shut and stop his head from spinning.

"Hey, do you want some fresh air for a second?" Craig offered.

"Mm…" Tweek thought that sitting here for a few minutes would be better for him, but he couldn't articulate that far.

"Okay. I'll get you some water, then."

Craig headed off to the kitchen. It took Tweek a worryingly long time to figure out that the kids that had filtered into the living room, seeking solace from the furnace-like heat of downstairs, were playing spin-the-bottle. Even inebriated, Tweek thought it looked pretty dumb. He was edged far enough to the corner of the couch that he didn't think he could be roped into it.

He was roped into everything. Tweek shut his eyes again, wishing he could be at home. Wishing that he didn't feel so much like a loser because he liked to be a home-body. Wishing Craig would just be okay with that. Wishing… Wishing that this whole night didn't feel so damn awkward.

"Here you go," Craig said, closing Tweek's fingers around a glass of water.

"Thanks."

"Craig. Truth or dare?" a voice came drifting over to them.

"What?"

"Truth or dare?"

Craig spun around and Tweek narrowed his eyes to look at the ottoman. "I'm not playing," Craig blurted, obviously flustered.

"Oh, come on. You're taking up a part of the damn couch so just humor me a second, okay?"

Tweek didn't know who the voice belonged to, but it must have been someone that Craig liked, because he finally relented. "I don't fucking know - truth."

"Um…" There was quiet for a few moments and Tweek savored it with a sip of water. "Do you still watch Red Racer?"

"Yes," Craig shot off, "and fuck you very much for asking."

Tweek let Craig take the water from him. He fell into a light sleep propped against Craig's side, and Tweek didn't know how long he was out before he was being gently shaken awake.

"Hey, bud. It's time to go."

Tweek grunted. The pulsing music was gone from the basement, but there were still plenty of people milling about. He checked his watch and audibly groaned.

"Yeah, I know it's late. Token and Clyde want to leave now," Craig said, nudging Tweek to his feet. The world still felt dizzyingly unstable under him. "Did you have a nice nap?"

Tweek looked around. Something felt off that he couldn't quite figure out. "'Kay, I'm ready."

He headed clumsily to the door. Craig caught his arm as Tweek fumbled around with his jacket.

"Had a little bit to drink there, buddy?" Token asked, landing a hard pat to Tweek's back. He whirled around, too forcefully, and Craig had to stabilize him again.

"Don't t-touch me," Tweek hissed.

"Sorry," Token muttered, taking a step back from the two of them. He sent Craig a long, confused stare.

Craig shrugged.

Tweek was the first one out the door, stumbling down the steps and into the open yard. He could feel snow filling his shoes. It was refreshingly cold and just a tiny bit sobering. His breaths came out in labored puffs of cold condensation, which freaked Tweek out a little. He still felt nauseous.

"Tweek! What are you doing?" Craig yelled from the front door.

He felt his knees buckle first. It came as a relief that being closer to the ground alleviated a portion of the buzzing in his head. Tweek slid his fingers into the snow.

"Jesus Christ."

With his eyes shut, Tweek felt a numbness wash over him. He knew in part that his tolerance of the freezing cold was owed mostly due to the alcohol. It wasn't something that he could rationalize. He couldn't rationalize any of it. His brain felt disjointed and confused, but full of roaring intensity. He felt hot and cold at the same time. He felt like he was going to vibrate out of his own skin.

"Hey," Craig said, crossing the lawn toward Tweek, careful crunches of snow under his feet. "We have to leave now."

"I know that," Tweek said.

"So can you get up now?"

Tweek stared at Craig.

"Can I help you up?" Craig continued toward him, extending his hand as an offer.

Tweek pulled away, kicking up more snow in the process. "Sorry!" he yelped, shaking his head. "Wait! I… C-Craig…" His voice cracked and Tweek tried sucking down a few panicked breaths, unable to focus on anything. An intense pressure formed at the back of his eyes and he tried to fight it, but tears pricked over his lashes.

Craig bent low and wrapped his arms around Tweek's shoulders, hoisting him to his feet. Tweek struggled for a moment, trying to remind himself where he was, what he was supposed to be doing. He was being pulled in the direction of the driveway with his heels dragging in the snow and he felt stupider now than he had all night.

"What the hell's wrong with him, dude?"

"I think he's having a reaction with his medication," Craig said, panic cutting into his tone.

"Oh, fuck. Really?"

"I'm fine!" Tweek hissed hysterically. He twisted in Craig's arms and tried shoving him away and the sudden thrust caused Tweek to slip on the ice. His feet went out from under him and he landed hard on his hip.

Craig wrestled for him a second time. "Tweek. Tweek, listen to me. Hey! You're going to be fine."

Tweek stopped squirming. Craig had caught both his wrists firmly in his hands. They were forced to look at each other.

"I feel weird, Craig."

"I know. I know, Tweek," Craig continued. "We're gonna get you home though, and you're going to get out of those wet clothes, and be nice and cozy in your bed. But you have to work with me here."

They breathed together a few repetitions in silence. "Okay."

Craig lifted Tweek to his feet again and started guiding him toward the car. Token hovered worriedly close to them. "Almost there, bud."

It was Craig who pressed Tweek into the front seat and clasped his seat belt across his lap, and it was Craig that Tweek kept glancing at between hurried breaths and glances out the window. It was Craig that maintained the silence, for better or for worse, in the car as he drove Clyde and Token home. It was Craig who was helping Tweek up the stairs to his house as Tweek compulsively and constantly checked the time on his watch.

The door was unlocked. Craig talked to him quietly and Tweek couldn't quite make the words make sense. He felt better though, the familiar scent of home greeting him, the gentle glow of his screensaver when they made it to his room. Tweek shivered violently, only then realizing how cold he was.

Craig peeled his jacket off and threw it on the floor near the closet. Tweek started shrugging out of his jacket, but it felt like a complicated tangle on his wet skin. Craig helped him out of it.

"Thanks," Tweek mumbled.

"How are you feeling?" Craig asked for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.

"Tired," Tweek sighed. He set to work on the buttons on his shirt with frozen fingers, and Craig was there to help again.

"We'll get to bed here in a second," Craig assured. Tweek twitched under Craig's touch, clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed with struggling with his shirt. "Just stay still."

"I'm sorry," Tweek admitted. "This is my fault. I shouldn't h-have drank anything."

Craig headed over to the closet and flipped through a few shirts as Tweek kicked off his soaking shoes. Craig settled on an oversized shirt that felt soft and had what looked like planets on them. Tweek pulled off his pants and let Craig put the shirt over his head. "You didn't do anything wrong, Tweek. I poured you the drinks after you said you shouldn't have them."

Tweek shook his head violently. "I drank them."

Craig wrapped his arms around Tweek, bear hugging him to his chest. "It doesn't matter," he insisted. "It's okay. We know now that two drinks is the maximum you should have. That's fine. You're fine."

Tweek focused on breathing with Craig for a few moments before pulling away.

"It's really hot in here," Tweek complained, heading toward his bed. He pulled off the shirt that Craig had put on him and threw it into the corner of the room.

Craig took off his hoodie and jeans before climbing into the bed after Tweek, who was nearly naked. Craig pulled the sheet up to his chin - it wasn't hot in Tweek's room. It was actually pretty cold. "Why don't you get under the covers?"

Tweek did as was suggested of him, to which he berated himself briefly inside his head for, and rolled over to face Craig. Craig inched his hand over to Tweek's, and Tweek grasped their fingers together as soon as he noticed them. Craig's fingers felt burning hot.

Tweek was immediately approximating the distance between their bodies, distracted by the fleeting vulnerability in Craig's face when they took each other in. His dark eyelashes in the dim room, the rounded tip of his nose, the slight waves in Craig's black hair, his lips - and what it would take to reach them. Tweek heard the echoes of how Craig told him that he thought too much, overanalyzed, got lost in small details. Too many worries, too many thoughts.

An unstable exhale followed. Even in his blurry trance, Tweek could feel his body, nervous and aflame at the intimacy of what was happening.

"You doing all right?" Craig asked.

"Stop asking me that," Tweek growled. He squeezed Craig's hand and leveraged himself closer to him, planting his lips (though not on the first try) against Craig's.

There was a moment of suspended incredulity between them, then Tweek sparred for entrance between Craig's teeth as his other hand found purchase in his dark hair. Craig immediately wrapped his arms around Tweek to pull them closer together. Tweek's mind was responding to the closeness and it began to slowly attach meaning to the movements. He wrapped his legs around Craig's and arched his back, rolling his hips into Craig's thigh, not caring that his kisses were staccatoed with heady, quick breaths. They indulged like that for a few moments longer until Craig gathered both of Tweek's hands together and twisted so Tweek was laying on his back, Craig leaning over him.

Tweek stared up at him, mouth parted and legs twitching.

"I can't do this," Craig said. "You're going to hate me in the morning."


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Tweek was jolted from sleep with the feeling that he was supposed to be doing something else. His panic sharpened when, in his scrambling to get out of bed, Tweek's hands met flesh. Bleary and huffing, he scrambled over Craig and stumbled forward onto his carpet, ignoring the pained groans from behind him.

The analog clock read 9:30.

"I'm late," Tweek croaked. He pulled at a fistful of his hair and set to work rooting around his floor for clean clothes. "Shit. I k-knew this was going to happen."

"Tweek," Craig grumbled. "It's okay. I talked to your mom."

"What?" Tweek demanded. He had to squint against the morning light streaming in from the window. His head was pounding. His hip was sore.

"She knocked at like, seven," Craig said lazily.

"What did you say to her?"

"The truth. That you had a couple of drinks last night and it made you a little, I don't know, loopy."

Tweek stared, dumbfounded. "You told _my m-mom_ that I was drinking last night."

"Well, yeah, Tweek. I wasn't going to lie to her," Craig admitted, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Tweek felt his eye twitch.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing, really. About that, anyway," Craig started as he shifted in bed. Tweek was still crouched on the carpet amidst a pile of clothes. "Just, um, that you need to be careful about what you 'put in your body.'"

Tweek swore there was the faintest of a chuckle behind Craig's voice. He knew how this morning had probably looked to his mom. He rubbed his temples, groaning. _Careful what you put in your body. Wear a condom._ Tweek cringed.

"Well, I have to get to the shop," he announced. Tweek continued to toe through the clothes.

"No, you don't," Craig said. "Your mom said they had everything covered. She just wants you to come help take everything down, around like, noon or something." He rolled over and covered his head with a pillow in attempt to block out the sun.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not lying to you," Craig answered in a muffled tone. "Why would I lie to you and not your mom?"

Craig had a point. Tweek fidgeted in his place and decided finally to do something about his nakedness. He eventually found a shirt and shimmied it over his head. "Why is everything, um, all wet?" Tweek asked suspiciously.

"You don't remember?"

Tweek didn't say anything as he padded back to the bed, careful not to brush up against Craig too much when he clambered under the covers. The memories Tweek had from the previous evening were hazy, almost like he'd experienced them in a dream - the more he tried to recall, the less he remembered.

"So, what all _do_ you remember from last night?" Craig pressed.

"Well, we went to a party," Tweek started matter-of-factly. He laid on his stomach, chin propped in the middle of a plush pillow. "There was a band. You were d-drinking way too much. You smoked weed with Kenny."

Craig nodded. "Is that all?"

"No. I… I think we played spin the bottle?" Tweek speculated.

"I played spin the bottle," Craig grumbled. "Wasn't my choice though."

Tweek threw a doubtful glance toward Craig. "I remember taking a nap… and being really c-cold."

"Tweek. Dude. You flipped out last night. Like, big time," Craig said slowly.

"What?" Tweek squeaked.

"It's my fault," Craig admitted, turning to look at Tweek fully, seemingly resigned to the fact that he was going to be awake now. "I got you drinking."

"I didn't even drink that much."

"Oh, you kinda did. You sucked down two vodka sodas and a rum and coke."

Tweek furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why? Why was I drinking so much?"

"I don't know. Probably because you wanted to," Craig answered. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "You kissed me."

Tweek looked away at that.

"A lot."

"I guess y-you're going to say that I wanted to do that too," Tweek muttered, cheeks beginning to heat up.

"You absolutely wanted to," Craig said earnestly.

Instead of asking Craig if that was what he had wanted to do - Tweek thought he already knew the answer to that anyway - he asked, "Did we… um. Did we do anything else?"

"No," Craig answered. Tweek could feel his reaction being studied. It was hard not to let out a sigh of relief. "You don't have to look so disappointed." There was a small chuckle from Craig as he turned to stare at the popcorn paint ceiling. "It wasn't for want of trying."

Tweek rolled over and pulled his knees up to his chest, mulling the information over. His hip twinged in protest at the movement - Tweek tried to ignore it. He thought Craig looked softer in the morning sunlight like this - less severe angles between his jaw and cheeks. Craig also looked like he could use a shower. Tweek felt like he could use one too.

"What do you mean by that?" Tweek croaked.

Craig shifted to fold his arms behind his head, yawning. "Somehow, I knew I'd end up having this conversation this morning. I'm not going to pretend that it didn't happen."

"Then don't," Tweek cut in sharply. "Just spit it out, Craig."

"It would have been irresponsible for me to leave you here alone," Craig started, as if to defend himself. "You, uh, you had a little adventure in the snow. I helped you get ready for bed. Tweek, you were soaked to the bone. I thought you were going to freeze to death in my car. You were super out of it too, like, kept telling me you were too hot or something, and you sorta… I don't know, started trying to _get something going_."

Tweek frowned at Craig's vagueness but didn't demand any more information. His stomach was doing somersaults in his chest as he tried to wrack his brain for any recollection of the few hours before he passed out.

"I didn't, though," Craig continued. "Didn't go through with it, I mean. Because, well, I knew you weren't sober and that you'd probably regret it if we did."

Tweek sucked down a breath as a pang of guilt ran through him. "Craig… that's not…" Not what, though? _Not true?_ The whole situation mortified him - of course he would have regretted it. "You don't need to baby me."

"Come on, Tweek. That's not fair."

"Man, fuck you," Tweek grumbled. He shrugged forward in a huff toward the end of the bed.

Craig caught his arm and pulled Tweek back, this time closer to Craig. "Don't be like that."

"You're being an asshole." He tried to pull his arm out of Craig's grasp, which only succeeded in Tweek getting pulled in closer.

"Probably," Craig admitted. "But I can't help it. You're so confusing sometimes."

Tweek fussed. "No, I'm not."

"So what, you'd rather that I'd taken advantage of you last night?" Craig asked as he brought his arms around Tweek, linking them around his middle and keeping him stationary.

"N-No!"

"Well, what's the problem, then?"

"You're just…" Tweek tossed his head but had given up on twisting out of Craig's grasp. "You're being too…"

"Look, I didn't do it for you," Craig said. "I did it for me."

Tweek craned his neck to look at Craig, teeth clenched.

"I'm not babying you. I didn't want to do anything last night because that's not what you would have wanted. And I knew that. And I don't want to be that person. I don't want you to think of me as that kind of person."

Tweek was silent for a long moment, heart still thudding in his ears from the adrenaline in the conversation. He didn't know what he felt about the whole thing, but Tweek knew that Craig always seemed to know what to say to placate him. Craig rested his chin in the divot between Tweek's neck and shoulder.

"I don't mean to be confusing," Tweek relented.

"Well, it's a little late for that," Craig mumbled into the fabric on Tweek's shoulder. "I like it though. You're always full of surprises."

"And that's not like, annoying to you?" Tweek sat forward, breaking the contact between them.

Craig grinned. "Oh, infuriatingly so. But I told you, I like that about you."

A quick glance at the clock showed that, according to Craig, they had over two hours before he needed to help his parents break down the event.

"Can I kiss you?" Craig asked.

Tweek glanced at him warily. "When was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

A moment of silence passed as Craig thought to himself. "When was the last time you brushed yours?"

"Okay, that's fair," Tweek admitted.

"So… that's a yes, then?" Craig batted his eyelashes at Tweek.

"No, that w-would be gross."

Craig mumbled something to himself as Tweek climbed out of the bed and padded to the bathroom. He ran a shower and took his time washing his tangled hair, stomach aflutter as he ran over the conversation between him and Craig a half-dozen times in his head. He'd drank too much. He'd made a fool out of himself in front of God knew how many people. Craig was still here, though, in his T-shirt and underwear in Tweek's bed, happy to put up with his bullshit. He rubbed a towel into his hair, leaving it damp and messy before brushing his teeth. It made him thirstier than he already was. Tweek guessed that's what a hangover was supposed to be, though - a throbbing head and feeling like a dried up raisin.

Craig was face-first into a pillow when Tweek returned to the bedroom. Tweek was carefully soft-footed as he climbed back into bed, warm and clean.

"There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet," Tweek said quietly.

Craig nodded sleepily. "Thanks."

When Craig was showering, Tweek crept downstairs. He eyed the coffee maker with some gusto, but settled on a glass of water. It would be better for his kidneys, he decided. Standing barefoot in his kitchen in the morning felt strange - he was stuck with a jumbled mix of emotions that were impossible to keep straight, and standing in such a mundane place in his house only added to the mess in his head. Tweek took a second glass of water up with him in case Craig wanted some too.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself when he got up to his room. Tweek thought with some apprehension about Craig kissing him as he'd planned to do when he was finished with his shower. He busied himself with picking up his laundry a bit, then crawled back into bed, wondering if he fell asleep whether Craig would kiss him anyway.

Craig army-crawled the length of the bed. The sudden movement made Tweek jump in surprise, but when he looked and saw Craig's movements, he couldn't help but laugh. Craig smiled, pleased with himself. Tweek let Craig press his chest up to Tweek's back.

"Hey, there," Craig said happily.

"H-Hey."

Craig touched Tweek's shoulder, feather-light, and began to draw tiny circles with his fingertips. They were alone. It was fine to let his guard down, Tweek reminded himself. He should be able to relax knowing that this was behind closed doors. But for some reason, the fact that they were alone put him even more on edge.

Tweek felt Craig's lips press against where his neck met his shoulder. He didn't stop Craig, but he didn't relax either. He stared out the window at the leafless trees outside, focusing on how the breath on his bare skin felt ticklish. Tweek thought it was something he might like if he could get his brain to stop running in circles.

The contact stopped after a few moments and Tweek felt Craig pull closer to him. He looked over to Craig, who was looming above him. Craig reached to cup the side of Tweek's face and their eyes locked in a long pause, like Craig was asking for permission.

Tweek's head was spinning but he made himself lift his head to meet Craig's lips. The first kiss was slow and gentle. Craig tasted like spearmint. Tweek supposed he probably tasted the same. Craig also closed his eyes when he kissed Tweek, and Tweek thought that was weird. But then again, the thought of Craig kissing him with his eyes open would probably have been weirder. Tweek shut his eyes.

The kiss deepened. Tweek froze for a moment, and he thought that maybe relying on instinct for this wasn't the greatest idea. He let Craig kiss him for a while, trying to mirror his movements.

Tweek rolled onto his back so the motions were easier. Craig clipped his teeth over Tweek's lower lip gently - Tweek tried to do the same thing, but it ended with their teeth knocking together awkwardly and Craig chuckling into his kisses. Craig propped his head up on his hand and rubbed Tweek's arm with his knuckles - he liked that, Tweek decided. He touched Craig's arm too, albeit with less intensity, enjoying the flex of the muscles under his fingers.

Craig brought his hand down to Tweek's hip, which he rubbed with the pad of his thumb, dragging it along the skin that stretched taut over Tweek's jutting bone. The feeling made Tweek rub his legs together, and he turned his head away for a few breaths, flushed. Craig dropped his lips to Tweek's jawline and kissed at the hollow of Tweek's throat. He swallowed awkwardly, tilting his head back down to catch Craig's lips again. Tweek curled his fingers over the curve in Craig's waist. The fabric of the shirt bunched in Tweek's fist.

Craig slipped his fingers under the hem of Tweek's shirt and brushed his lower belly. Tweek arched upwards to keep Craig's hands from plying for purchase against his chest. Craig ended up toying with the elastic band of Tweek's boxer briefs instead, and Tweek pulled away at that.

"Th-That's enough," Tweek said softly, unable to meet Craig's eyes.

"Mmkay." Craig cuffed Tweek's shoulder. "Thanks."

Tweek snuck a quick glance up at Craig, expecting to see disappointment or frustration. Craig just had his eyes closed. The side of his cheek was still smushed into the palm of his hand. Craig wore a small smile.

"Can you set an alarm on your phone?" Tweek asked, blushing to himself. He balled his hands together under his chin and scooted close to Craig as he twisted toward the end table to get his phone.

"Sure thing."

"A-Are you going to come with me to the shop?" Tweek asked, suppressing a yawn.

"I'd planned on it," Craig answered.

"Okay."

* * *

Tweek woke up before Craig did. He pulled himself over Craig to silence the alarm. It was half past eleven.

He started to get dressed. Craig rolled out of bed and slipped into his jeans from yesterday, adjusting the shirt that he'd worn not only to the party, but to sleep in all night. It was wrinkled, but looked somewhat presentable with his navy hoodie zipped up over it. Tweek shook his head to free some of his still-damp hair from clumping together - Craig just tucked his under his hat. They got dressed in relative silence.

The drive to Tweak Bros. Coffee was an easy one - they arrived a few minutes before noon, still feeling the consequences of drinking the previous night. Tweek got out of the car first and headed inside without waiting for Craig.

His parents looked genuinely happy to see him. In fact, Tweek's mom was beaming, which made Tweek feel uneasy. She squeezed Tweek's shoulder when he intercepted her tying off a garbage bag.

"I'm sorry I didn't make the benefit this morning." Tweek apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

His mom shook her head. "Oh, no, honey. It went well. Your dad and I had it handled."

Craig came into the shop and took off his gloves, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. Tweek's mom glanced at Craig, then back to her son. "I'm just glad you had a good time," she added reassuringly. Tweek nodded and looked at his shoes before heading into the back to take the trash out.

When Tweek came back, after having considerable trouble with the dumpster lid, Craig was talking to his dad while breaking down a pop-up folding table. Tweek set to work collecting the folding chairs. He caught bits and pieces of their conversation though - his dad was asking him for details from the previous night. Tweek was thankful that Craig left most of the things that they probably shouldn't have been doing out of the conversation.

Tweek took down the sign in the front window next. He hated when he saw signs still up for events long-expired. A few customers trickled in and his mom took care of them behind the counter.

When they were finished, Craig sat down at one of the tables. His dad sat down opposite him. Tweek shuttled over.

"So what were you planning to do in Denver?" he asked.

"There's skating at Skyline Park," Craig said, trying to think of ideas that didn't involve drinking. "I wanted to go snowboarding at Echo or Eldora, too."

"Sounds like a good time. I don't think Tweek knows how to snowboard, though," Tweek's dad said as he looked over to his son, hovering at the end of the table.

"It's really not that hard," Craig offered easily. "We could start on the bunny hill. I'll teach you - it'll take an hour, max."

Tweek went wide-eyed at the thought of himself strapped to a piece of plastic, zooming down the side of a mountain, unable to control himself. He was pretty sure he would crash - probably into a tree, and likely fracture both his legs. Probably an arm, too, and if he was really unlucky…

"Are you s-supposed to wear a helmet when you snowboard?" Tweek blurted out at the thought of his brain matter leaking out of his skull, staining the snow crimson.

"I mean, you can," Craig said. "It's not really uncommon. Especially when you're doing like, courses with moguls and stuff."

"I don't know what that is," Tweek said.

Craig shrugged. "You'll learn."

Tweek's mom skirted around them to clear a table of dishes. His dad cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I sure hope you boys had fun last night, and I hope you'll both be responsible in Denver, too."

"Yes, Mr. Tweak," Craig said, the slightest bit of disdain in his tone.

"I thought we talked about this. Please call me Richard."

"Yes, Richard, _sir_ ," Craig responded.

Tweek knew Craig was just fucking with his dad. It had become a game for him, Tweek guessed, and the formal addressal of his dad harkened back to a time when they were both in elementary school and his dad had insisted his friends call him 'Mr. Tweak' at a sleepover. Tweek wondered if his dad regretted saying that as he headed back behind the counter.

"I can close the shop tonight, mom," he offered. She looked up from a tray of glasses that were going to go through the wash.

"Do you want to work until six?" she asked. "I don't mind staying, Tweek."

"I don't mind, either. You and dad have both been up since s-super early."

"Okay. Let me finish this all up. Your dad was going to take off here shortly - I'll ask him to wait a bit. You can put these in the wash if you want to help," she said, patting the dish tray. Tweek picked it up and his mom skirted around the counter into the lobby.

The back room hadn't been organized in a while. Because of his last few appointments, his parents had to trade off shifts to take him, and as such they hadn't had the time to put everything away. He figured if Craig stuck around, he could hang out behind the counter while Tweek organized the shelves.

He emerged and his mom and dad were both chatting with Craig. Tweek hoped they weren't saying anything embarrassing. He readied another tray to run through the wash, then got through the rest of the dishes before his mom met him at the counter.

"Let me know if you'll be home for dinner tonight," she said and gave Tweek the keys to the shop. She kissed him on the cheek and Tweek's stomach flipped when he remembered the feeling of Craig's lips there - and everywhere else on his face - only a few hours prior.

"Will do."

"Is Craig going to stay here with you?"

"Yeah," Tweek answered, running a hand through his hair. "I-If that's okay."

His mom laughed. "Of course it is. But remember, customer's first," she warned jokingly, pointing at her eyes, then at Tweek and over to Craig at the table. Craig raised his hands in submission. "And don't hesitate to call if you need anything, okay, honey? The espresso machine is a little low on beans right now. You can ask Craig to fill it if you can't reach."

"Okay, mom."

Tweek watched his parents leave together. Craig repositioned himself in a booth and stretched out. They were the only two in the shop.

"Will you make me something?" Craig asked.

"Sure. What do you want?"

"I dunno. Coffee?"

"I thought you liked my caramel-frapp-fuck-me-ups," Tweek teased from his post.

"I don't really know what those are," Craig admitted. "Can you do a coffee but make it taste good?"

"So, do you want m-me to put in sugar, or like a flavor shot? We have vanilla, caramel, toffee, hazelnut…" Tweek listed off a few more flavors from memory.

"Uhh…" Craig stared at Tweek for a long moment. He was hunched forward, head rested atop folded arms on the table. "Surprise me."

Tweek started assembling Craig's coffee. He decided that Craig would ultimately like a latte with sugar. Two drinks in hand - a black coffee for him - he sauntered over to the booth and presented Craig with his drink. Tweek wrapped his hands around his mug to warm his fingers.

"Thanks." Craig accepted the mug, trading it for the phone that had previously been occupying his attention. "Doesn't that get loud up there? You should wear earplugs."

Tweek looked over to the counter, then back at Craig, trying to figure out what he meant.

"That thing, where you put the milk," Craig elaborated poorly, gesturing to the counter again.

"Oh, the milk wand."

"Wand?"

Tweek chuckled. "Yeah, that's what it's called. And n-no, it's actually not supposed to be that loud. I don't think my parents have had the time to take it apart - sometimes milk gets like, crusted on the i-inside, so the steam sounds like that when it comes out of the little holes, and oh, man, I don't know if I should have told you th-that because it's kind of gross."

"I mean, the coffee still tastes good," Craig said with a shrug as he tried the drink and gave Tweek a thumbs-up.

"Thanks."

Craig pocketed his phone and looked up at Tweek, taking another sip of his drink. "You're a good kisser."

"As compared to whom?" Tweek answered automatically. His usual tactics to diverting Craig's attempted romancing tended to be quick jibes and quips.

Craig chuckled. "Well, I know that I like kissing you."

"Mm."

Tweek was saved by a group of girls walking in. They looked to be in middle school. Tweek took their orders, which they wanted to-go, and he figured they'd carry as they walked around town while they walked, exploring on a Saturday afternoon. Tweek felt a pang of nostalgia running through him for the carelessness of his adolescence as he readied their drinks.

The next few groups of people that arrived in steady droves all seemed to be hungover teenagers, just looking to cure their tiredness with caffeine. Craig spent his time on his phone, occasionally looking up to watch Tweek work, and punctuating the occasional lulls with conversation.

"Hey, Craig. Can you get something for me?" Tweek asked as he finished up with a customer.

"Sure thing." Craig moved behind the counter and followed Tweek into the back. He had Craig get a bag of coffee beans off a shelf that was out of Tweek's reach, then poured them into the top of a large black machine under Tweek's instruction.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Craig hung around behind the counter after that for a while. Tweek kept casting him looks of mild disapproval when Craig had perched himself on a countertop, long legs dangling a few inches above the tile. Craig didn't seem to notice, as he was hunched over and engrossed in a mobile game.

"I'm hungry," Craig announced when the shop was empty once more.

"You can g-go get a bite to eat," Tweek offered. He was hungry too, but there wasn't much at the shop besides pastries and Tweek didn't think his sour stomach could take the sugar.

"What do you want?" Craig asked.

Tweek shrugged. "I don't care. Anything, really."

"I'm a little low on cash right now," Craig admitted sheepishly. "Would it be in bad taste if I asked for a few bucks?"

"No, that's all right."

Tweek pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket and handed them over to Craig, who took them with a wink and left the shop. Tweek was left alone, and he felt a refreshing wave wash over him.

He liked Craig. He really did. But he'd found himself having less and less time to himself lately. Between school, helping his parents out at the coffee shop, the increasingly frequent trips to the sterile and uncomfortable doctor's office, on top of balancing his and Craig's, err, _relationship_ , Tweek just wished he had some time to relax, to think unhindered. To work on his hobbies. He didn't think he'd had any time in the past few weeks to put together one of the model kits he'd gotten, now nearly a year ago, for Christmas.

He was surprised to see Cartman as his next customer. He was with Heidi. Tweek noted that they both looked like shit. Cartman was stuff into his letterman jacket with the collar folded under itself around his thick neck. Heidi was wearing the dress she had on last night but was wearing sneakers with it instead of her heels, which looked very out of place when juxtaposed together like that.

"Hey, Tweek. You were at my place last night?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," Tweek answered, tapping awkwardly on the countertop and waiting for their drink orders.

"And you had a good time, right?"

"Yeah, it was pretty f-fun," Tweek relented.

"I know. I just wanted to hear it again," Cartman said, more to himself than to either of them.

"...Okay." Tweek couldn't shake the uncomfortableness of their conversation. He made their drinks to-go, trying to steady his hands as he worked, and was discouraged when they hung around chatting at the counter for a while after their drinks were put in the window. Tweek couldn't say that he was disappointed that Craig was gone for the awkward exchange. He busied himself with cleaning until they left, hoping he'd get most of the job done before they closed so he wouldn't have to stay too much later.

Craig came back almost a half hour later with their lunch. Tweek was honestly looking forward to eating something - especially as greasy as the food inside the bag smelled - as he hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before. It wasn't uncommon for him to go so long without eating. His clothes had taken to hanging off him lately in the most annoying of ways. His parents had commented on it, which of course only made Tweek feel worse.

"I tried to call you," Craig said as he wiped the snow off his boots on the rug.

"Sorry, my phone's on silent." Tweek pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had two missed calls from Craig.

"I figured. I didn't know what you wanted, so I got you a cheeseburger."

Tweek came around the counter and they sat together in a booth picking at greasy fries. He eyed his cheeseburger with lust.

"So you said you started a new medication," Craig mentioned through a mouth full of food.

"Mhmm." Tweek didn't want to elaborate much on it, a small part owed to how focused he was on eating. Craig knew his faults. Tweek had been a jittering wreck for as long as either of them could remember. It came with the territory of knowing him, Tweek supposed. His quirks had faded into the background noise and nuance that was South Park. No one gave him a hard time for it - not anymore, at least.

Craig wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. "What was wrong with the old stuff?"

Tweek shrugged. "I guess it just wasn't doing its job."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it d-does." Tweek sank his teeth into the cheeseburger instead of mentioning the several hours spent wasted in waiting rooms over the last few weeks, or the bruises he'd had on his sweater-covered arms from repeated blood draws. He didn't mention the few sleepless nights he'd had coming off his previous medication, checking and rechecking the time on his alarm. Craig didn't need to know all that. He didn't need that kind of attention from Craig.

Craig didn't bring it up again as they continued their lunch. Tweek mostly listened to Craig talk about school and the rest of their friends, providing his own commentary when needed. He liked that he didn't have to work at his relationship with Craig - he was always there when he wanted to talk, and didn't bat an eye or stop calling him to hang out after Tweek had to decline a few times. Tweek figured that was why his other relationships were struggling. He hadn't the time nor the energy to reach out.

When they finished up their lunch, Tweek cleared the table and shuttled the remnants to the trash.

"Could you do me a favor?" Tweek asked.

"Of course."

"I want to put away some of the s-stuff in the back. It's kind of a shitshow back there. You saw it. Can you hang out behind the counter for a while? You c-can just let me know if anyone comes in."

"No prob, boss-man," Craig said, giving Tweek a salute.

Tweek made a face at Craig before ducking into the back room. There were still pallets of boxes wrapped in plastic that needed to be sorted through and put away. Some of the bottles of syrup and mixes were put away haphazardly, or set on shelves, completely forgotten about. Tweek felt a little bad about the state of the room, taking it more as a metaphor for how his parents were feeling in their own lives. He was happy to have taken the shift from them to give them some time away from the place, wondering if he brought up hiring an hourly employee again to them whether they would take him seriously or not.

He found a box cutter on one of the shelves and set to work retrieving the items from the pallet. The dry goods were the easiest to put away. He didn't mind sorting through them, making sure the dates were arranged properly so they wouldn't end up with expired product. Craig kept him company, half leaning into the back room, keeping an eye on the front of house. Tweek had to stop a few times to make coffee for some visitors, but the amount of people, as usual, tapered off in the evening hours. If he could focus more easily, Tweek thought he could get his homework done in his downtime during the week. He rarely got so lucky.

The cooler was Tweek's least favorite chore. He had to don his coat and shuffle boxes around in the cold. Craig lent him his gloves, which hung too large at the fingers, but it made the job easier. He checked his watch.

"Hey, Craig?" Tweek called.

"Yeah?" Craig answered, coming through the swinging door.

"Can you lock up?" Tweek asked. He put his hands on his thighs, bent over slightly, tired from reorganizing the cooler.

"Sure."

"The key is behind the bakery case. M-Make sure you flip the sign to closed!" Tweek said as Craig headed back out.

He followed Craig into the lobby to make sure everything was done properly. Tweek tied off the garbage and had Craig take it out back while he swept. He didn't see any spilled coffee anywhere, and the carpets were still pretty clean, so Tweek decided to forgo mopping and vacuuming. Craig came back out and helped him wipe the tables down.

"Ready to go?" Craig asked him, looking eager to head home. It was already dark out.

"You can take off if you want," Tweek said. "I have a few things to finish putting away in the back."

"I can wait. I was going to drive you home."

"Okay. Thanks."

Craig followed Tweek into the back. He fished out the syrup pumps that he put in the sink basin to soak and started to dry them off.

"Do you need any help?" Craig asked.

"No, I got it. I-It's fine."

Craig leaned against one of the metal counters while Tweek finished putting the dishes away. He moved on to restocking the tea display when Craig came up behind him, putting his hands on Tweek's hips.

"I like that you work so hard," Craig said, sighing softly. "I know that you have a lot on your plate right now."

Tweek stiffened under the contact. "Thanks?" He turned to face Craig who was regarding him seriously, but with tenderness.

"You can talk to me about it, you know. I mean, if you want," Craig elaborated. His hands linked at the small of Tweek's back. "You were missing school for a bit. I know you said you were sick, but I'm here, y'know, for when you need it."

Tweek looked up at Craig. He liked the wispiness of Craig's side-swept black hair across his forehead. He wanted Craig to take his hat off so he could see how messy it was underneath.

"I know, Craig," Tweek croaked. "And I know that you want to go out and do fun things. And that's okay, too. I d-don't mind if you have a social life outside of me."

"I want a social life that includes you," Craig interjected.

"Working on it," Tweek said behind a small cringe. "What I'm trying to say is, you don't have t-to worry about me. I'm fine. It's just been a rough few weeks. Okay, well, couple of months. I appreciate that you're there for me… And I think studying with you sounds p-pretty nice, actually, but you don't have to keep saying all that stuff to me. I'm not going anywhere. All that mushy stuff puts me on edge. I'm not gonna break, you know."

Craig laughed and pulled away. "Sorry if you're feeling crowded by me. You're right. You can have your space sometimes."

"No, it's not like that," Tweek shot in. "I don't know… It's okay to like, n-not do anything for a while. Sometimes I need a break from people. But it's okay if you're there, too. Just because I'm quiet for a bit doesn't mean that I'm, you know, upset or anything."

"I get that."

"So quit being so damn… wary and careful around me."

Tweek turned back to arranging the shelves. Craig fit himself between the shelves and Tweek, causing Tweek to step back, startled, when Craig grabbed his shoulders and kissed him.

"So kind of like that?" Craig asked, still clutching Tweek's shoulders.

Tweek flushed. "I was thinking a l-little less, um… brash, but that works too, I guess."

Craig pulled him in for another kiss and Tweek surrendered himself for a few moments.

"Let's get home."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Tweek spent the rest of his weekend in his room. When Craig dropped him off, his mom had hovered for a while, insisting that he have a plate of lasagna for dinner. Tweek wasn't hungry - the thought of something as heavy as pasta in his stomach made his skin crawl. He'd had a big lunch, he'd said, and left the Saran-wrapped plate in the fridge for a later venture. He hadn't really recovered from the night before - Tweek still felt wobbly on his feet, sleep-deprived and sour, which only made him feel more bitter as he stared at the boxes and sprues of models on his desk. He wondered briefly when he would have the time and energy to put them together. Not tonight, it seemed.

He went to bed early and woke up late. Tweek enjoyed his lazy Sunday attempting to play Battlegrounds with Craig. His computer wasn't exactly able to handle the game, so they mostly ended up chatting over the application until Tweek's headphones started to hurt his ears. The rest of the night was left to homework. Or, really, trying to focus on it while everything else served as an incredibly enticing detractor.

When Monday morning rolled around, he was feeling less on-edge than he'd felt all weekend. Tweek was back to a routine. He could do weekdays. Get up, go to school, go to work, study, and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

"Do you want to come over after school?" Craig asked him in the small window of time where their lunch periods intersected.

"I have to g-go into work for a few hours," Tweek said, eyeing the clock.

"You can come over after."

"Um."

Craig looked around for where his friends had made off to. "To study, Tweek," he added.

Tweek didn't really go over to Craig's house all that often. He liked the idea of it, though he always found himself fidgeting and unable to figure out what to do with his hands. Tweek didn't have a good excuse to decline. "Is anyone else going to be there?"

"I was gonna have Clyde and Token over for a bit. I can kick them out before you come over, though," Craig offered. He started edging toward the line of students queueing for lunch.

"I don't really mind."

"What time did you want me to pick you up?"

Tweek bit his lip. "Eight's f-fine."

Craig nodded. Tweek watched him cut in line to reunite with Clyde and a few others, and ended up being a few seconds late to his next class. The walk home after school was enjoyable enough - it cleared his head - he was happy to focus on frigid breaths and his stinging cheeks, and nothing else, for a while.

His house was empty. Tweek got a cup of coffee from its omnipresent perch next to the toaster and started to pick at some leftovers. He chewed the cold, two-day old lasagna like it was paste in his mouth as he studied the small whiteboard on the fridge with a week's worth of engagements laid out. He worked tonight. And tomorrow. Tweek had a doctor's appointment on Thursday, and his Friday shift had been scribbled out, presumably from his mom. He wondered if his parents thought that last Friday would become a regular thing.

Tweek scraped the rest of his lasagna into the trash. He lamented the fact that his skin still felt sensitive where Craig had kissed him, and, like most of the last couple days, he tried and failed to distract himself by redirecting his attention to a book he'd been assigned in English class. Tweek rubbed his temples roughly with his knuckles, elbows propped on the table.

He walked to the shop with his book bag slung across his back, not sure if Craig was going to pick him up here or at his house. His parents hung around for a while shuffling between them most of the chores Tweek had planned to take care of. They thanked him for the hundredth time for cleaning the back room.

When his parents left, Tweek pulled a stool around to the back of the counter so he could sit for a while. He had a steady stream of customers until dinner time, when it usually thinned out, and Tweek was back to trying to trick himself into believing that Friday didn't really happen. That nothing had changed between him and Craig. That his routines would remain intact.

Tweek usually didn't mess around on his phone at work, but his parents hadn't left him much to do for the evening besides man the till and wash a few dishes. He thought about whether he would be able to concentrate at Craig's house tonight, whether Craig would keep his word and let Tweek get his work done… and whether or not Tweek actually _wanted_ Craig to do that.

He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted in the first place. Craig had a way of worming his way into his thoughts - Tweek wondered if he was doing it intentionally. Probably not. He didn't think Craig was a telepathic, mind-controlling, interdimensional creature sent to torment him. At least, Tweek hoped that wasn't the case. Craig's lips had felt foreign enough to be just that, however, and that left Tweek feeling wholly disillusioned about the experience.

Tweek tapped out the phrase _kissing tips_ into the search bar in his phone. He pawed through a few pages skeptically, noting that most of it seemed to be written by a much younger demographic, making the reading experience all the more awkward. Tweek refined his search to _how to kiss guys_ and the articles that followed were marginally better, and at least the majority of them were written from a gender-neutral point of view. He stared at some pictures of a model-like woman kissing a gruff-looking man for longer than he probably should have. He clicked over to the images tab of the screen and was met with dozens of similar photos. Tweek frowned.

 _Guys kissing guys_.

Someone cleared their throat from across the counter. Tweek looked up, startled, and almost dropped his phone on the tiled floor. One of his customers was at the counter with an empty mug.

"S-Sorry!" he sputtered, pressing his phone into his pocket. The man looked amused.

"No problem. Can I just get a refill?"

"Sure thing." Tweek didn't charge the man for his second cup.

Craig showed up ten minutes to eight. He was alone, hands stuffed into the pockets of his oversized jacket, a light dusting of snow on his hat. Tweek could smell the faint musk of cigarette smoke rolling off him from behind the counter, where he was mopping the floor. They were alone.

"Are you hungry?" Craig asked. He made his way behind the counter and took his usual seat atop one of the long metal tables. Tweek thought that he should start lining the area with espresso bags to keep Craig from parking his ass on the work space.

"I could eat," Tweek answered with a shrug.

"I can take you out tonight, if you want. You look like you could use a good meal."

Tweek coughed to suppress an involuntary groan. He wheeled the wash station into the back and emptied it.

"What are you in the mood for?" Craig insisted when Tweek made his way back to the front.

"I don't know. Anything, really," Tweek said absently. He started to collect the few stray dishes left around the coffeehouse.

"How's Chinese food sound?"

Tweek's stomach let out a low growl at the mention. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Craig was already on his phone. "I'll order it now. You want the mushu pork?"

"Yeah," Tweek answered, taken aback that Craig remembered his order. "A-And an egg roll."

He locked up after that and turned the sign over before shrugging into his jacket. "Do you want me to throw in a couple bucks?" Tweek offered, scuffing the sole of his shoe on the carpet to keep him occupied.

"No, I got it this time. I just cashed my check."

Tweek frowned. "I thought you got fired."

"Naw."

He shut the lights off and they left together through the back door. Tweek flinched at the chilliness in the air. "Where's Token and Clyde?"

"I dropped them off at home. Didn't want anyone bugging you while you did your homework," Craig said simply.

"Oh."

Tweek bounced his knee in the car ride to City Wok. He noticed Craig looked more tired than usual, and he wasn't as talkative. Craig left the car running when he ran inside to get their food.

"Smells good," Tweek said softly as he took the bag from Craig.

"Yeah. I've hardly eaten all day."

"You okay?" Tweek asked.

"Me? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

"Okay."

"I was up late last night looking into hotel rooms in Denver. You've gotta be eighteen to get into most places… But I think I have something figured out."

Tweek nodded, feeling his stomach twist in a knot over the aromatic food in his lap. The hunger pains made him feel grounded. "Sounds complicated. Let me know if you need any help."

"Thanks."

The rest of the drive was short and spent in relative silence. Craig helped him with the bags as they got out of the car and headed inside. Tweek noticed Craig's parents watching television in the living room - they didn't acknowledge either of them when they made their way up the stairs.

Tweek found the slight, musty cigarette-and-unwashed-clothes smell of Craig's room to be comforting. It was the same scent that Tweek picked up when Craig would lean in too close when they had lunch together, or that of one of Craig's forgotten and balled-up hoodies left askew on Tweek's bedroom floor for multiple days. He felt safe wrapped in it.

Craig started to clear off a pile of clothes and garbage from his bed, an honest effort at trying to tidy up for his guest. Tweek set his book bag down at Craig's desk.

"What did you want to do while we eat?" Craig asked. He took a seat in the middle of the bed and started rifling through the bag. "I can put on a quick show or something."

"That sounds fine." Tweek pulled out his materials and climbed onto the bed next to Craig. He crossed his legs with his back against the headboard. Craig passed him a takeout box and a pair of disposable chopsticks.

" _Haunted Ice Road Trucker Wars_ it is, then," Craig announced jokingly. Tweek snorted.

"Please, G-God, no."

"Too scary for you?" Craig teased as he resituated himself on the bed. "I mean, I know you don't like horror shows but _come on_ , it's-"

"No, I don't think it's s-scary. I think it's dumb and I want to watch something else."

"O-o-okay," Craig drawled, raising his hands in mock defeat. "Whatever you like, your majesty. King of Exquisite Taste in Reality Television and Lord of Channel Guides, may you bestow upon us your-"

"Dude, cut it out," Tweek hissed.

"So… _Red Racer_?"

"How about _Terrance and Phillip_?" Tweek suggested as he chewed through a mouth full of food.

"Swallow first, there, dude. But sure thing."

Craig started the show and left the room briefly. He came back with two beers and a soda.

"Did you want one?" Craig asked.

"No, thanks." Tweek almost had his food knocked out of his lap when Craig sat down again, divoting the mattress.

"These were really hard to sneak past my dad," Craig complained jokingly. "Guess I'll just have to drink them both."

Tweek stuck a socked foot out at Craig, digging his toe into Craig's side. "You're t-turning into a lush."

"Wouldn't be the first one South Park did this to," Craig grumbled. He reached out to tickle the bottom of Tweek's foot, but Tweek managed to get back to sitting out of Craig's reach.

"Well, that's depressing as all hell."

Craig cocked his head with his shrug, tipping the lip of his beer bottle in Tweek's direction. "At least I can have more than two beers before getting shitfaced," he mused.

"Hey, Mr. Craig-Rude-Ass-Fucking-Tucker, some of us haven't been afforded the opportunity t-to curate our ability to hold down our-"

"Whoa!" Craig interrupted, "I did _not_ mean it like that. I meant like, I can have a few beers and not get sloshed, because I spend a lot of time actually _getting sloshed_. Tolerance, or whatever."

"Su-u-ure," Tweek drawled. He'd finished what he could of his meal and set the rest of his mushu pork atop Craig's dresser.

"Really. I mean it," Craig said, casting Tweek a meaningful look. "I'm not going to hold Friday against you. It wasn't something you had any control over."

"It's all good, Craig. I was joking."

Craig balked. "You were what?"

"I was _j-joking_ ," Tweek repeated, this time more forcefully.

"You can do that?"

"Shut up, you asshat."

Craig laughed and put his empty takeout box on the dresser next to Tweek's before stretching out on the bed. Tweek noticed Craig was careful enough to give him space. Craig turned the volume of his television down and glanced back up at Tweek at his headboard. "Have fun being a total nerd."

Tweek rolled his eyes and shoved Craig's leg with his foot. Craig chuckled, content to let Tweek be the victor to this battle, then turned his attention back to the television.

Craig repositioned himself a few times while Tweek read and filled out his worksheets. Craig ended up on his back, head lolled off the foot of his bed and watching television. His socked feet were propped against the wooden panelling of the windows, which he carefully maneuvered open when he snuck a few cigarettes. Tweek couldn't help but steal the occasional glance.

"Do you want to hang out on Thursday, too?" Craig asked. He held up his phone. "Kyle, Stan and Kenny wanted to get together."

"Oh. I, um, I have to work that day," Tweek said quietly, putting the end of his mechanical pencil in his mouth.

"But you're only working 'til eight."

"Yeah… I dunno. I'll text you if I'm f-feeling up to it," he managed. Tweek had a doctor's appointment after school that day, and if it had been like any of his previous, he wasn't so sure he would be able to summon the energy to leave the house afterward.

Craig stared at Tweek, his neck craned uncomfortably, for a long moment before he hung it off the end of his bed again. Craig lit up another cigarette and didn't say anything else about it. Tweek thought it was weird that Craig didn't mind the little pieces of ash that fluttered onto his comforter.

Tweek had a feeling that Craig fell asleep, and when he finished his assignments, he confirmed his suspicion while packing his book bag. He decided to shut the television off for Craig and toss a blanket over his body, opting to walk the three and a half blocks back to his house. It was almost a quarter to midnight when he got home, having enjoyed the silence and stillness of South Park in the middle of night. His phone started buzzing when Tweek got back to his room. It was, predictably, Craig that was texting him.

He checked the message, which was a string of question marks. Tweek tapped out that he'd walked home because it was late and he didn't want to wake Craig up.

His phone continued to vibrate on his nightstand as Tweek brushed his teeth and got undressed, looking forward to warming his chilly thighs under the blankets. He checked his phone again.

Craig: dude i totally woulda drove you home

Craig: its cold out

Craig: sorry I fell asleep u should wake me up next time

Craig: did you get everything done?

Tweek: It's fine, really. You looked pretty tired. and yeah I did. Thanks for dinner.

Craig: your welcome.

Craig: quick question tho

Craig: do I look cute when I'm sleeping?

Tweek took a while to answer that one. He was content to let Craig wait while he found a comfortable enough position curled in around himself under the thick layer of blankets.

Tweek: You look like you, but sleeping.

Craig: well i think you look cute when your asleep ;)

Tweek: I'm going to bed Craig. Gnight.

Craig: niiiiight

Tweek made sure his alarm was set for tomorrow morning, then tried unsuccessfully for a while to get to sleep. It wasn't as frustrating as it usually was, as Tweek kept thinking back to the quiet evening he'd shared with Craig, simply content to exist in each others' presence for a few hours. He liked casually existing around people, not having to worry about being too loud or talking too much, or precisely the opposite. Tweek thought he would have been more of a people person if that was all it took to have friends. Eventually, he rolled over to check what was trending on social media, or read about competition updates in his tabletop games, but when Tweek opened his browser, he was met with the images that he had been searching earlier at the shop.

Tweek stared for longer than he would have wanted, eventually clicking on an image of a shirtless man with a tongue ring. The image moved, looping the model's tongue working itself along the neck of a smaller, restrained man. Tweek bit his lip and returned to the search page, deciding to scroll for a bit to inspect the images and gifs of men kissing each other. He found himself tapping through a few sites, forgetting about his previous intentions, and came to a video of two young men - Tweek thought that they looked like high school kids, but he figured that probably would have been illegal - making out.

Tweek told himself that this was for instructional purposes only, but felt his lower belly tingle when the actors started stripping.

* * *

The next day and a half was easy routine. Tweek wondered absently between doing dishes and turning textbook pages why he didn't get lonely - everyone else seemed to distract themselves unendingly from repetition. It was comfortable for him.

Going to the doctor's office though, however frequent those visits had become, was not part of Tweek's routine.

His mom was with him this time. They were seated in the office on stiff vinyl chairs, and she had her head buried in a magazine, trying to look bored and uninterested. Tweek prefered her presence to that of his dad's - at least his mom made it look like she wasn't worried. Tweek was a little worried, too. But then again, he usually was.

It had started with stomach aches a few months back. Tweek didn't take notice until throwing up somewhere between showering and brushing his teeth became an ordinary part of his mornings. At that point, he'd dropped a worrying amount of weight. Along with the weight went his appetite and energy to do anything besides what was absolutely necessary. They'd given him high-dose antibiotics for a while, then antacids, pumped his gallbladder full of dye, and scoped his stomach.

He could barely remember the feeling of lying in the hospital bed full of fentanyl, but it was Tweek's only pleasant memory from the whole experience. And as it had turned out, his constant anxiety wasn't the sole culprit. The stomach ulcer, yes, that was his brain's doing, but the weight loss and fatigue had been something else entirely.

The doctor came back into the room, shuffling papers around, and told them that his bloodwork was good. Tweek's phone rang and he silenced it with a quick apology as he sat through the discussion about his eating habits and stress management with the occasional nod, lacing and unlacing his fingers, while his mom did most of the talking. Eventually, the doctor handed over the script for his official, full-dosage medication.

2 milligrams of Klonopin. Every day.

Great.

Tweek wished he could have been excited, but working up to the dosage had been a pain in the ass as it was. He just hoped his brain would mellow out because the whole thing was making him tired.

When they finally got home after waiting around the pharmacy, it was dinnertime. His dad was still at the coffeeshop and his mom offered to cook them all something to bring and eat there as a family. He gave an indefinite answer then checked his phone.

Craig had called. Twice. And followed up with a slew of messages asking where he was. Tweek's heart jumped to his chest.

Craig: you told me you were working today what gives?

Tweek: I had an appointment. Sorry.

Craig: For what?

Tweek: It's not that big of a deal. I just didn't want you to worry okay?

That wasn't entirely true. Tweek knew that Craig probably knew that.

Craig: well did you want to hang out tonight?

Tweek wondered if there was some hurt there. The thought of having that conversation with Craig made his skin crawl.

"I think I'm going to have dinner at a friend's house, mom," Tweek told her. She didn't seem to mind. Tweek almost wished that she did.

Tweek: Sure. Where are you?

Craig: at kennys house. I can come get you if you want

Tweek: Have you been drinking?

Craig: only a few but I'm good to drive

Tweek went to his room with his book bag and sank to the floor by his desk, exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and call it a night, but he had Craig pushing him out the door again. Tweek knew he should be grateful, that Craig had the best intentions for him, that locking himself away wasn't going to lead to Tweek being any happier, but he was just so tired and the thought of being around people for much longer made his stomach churn uncomfortably in his chest.

Craig called him as Tweek steadied his head.

"Hey, I'm here."

Tweek supposed it couldn't be helped. "All right, I'll be down in a minute."

He could smell the beer on Craig from the passenger seat. Tweek adjusted his bag while they pulled back onto the road, not wanting to look up at Craig on the off chance he'd get an eyeful of Craig's infamous cynicism.

"Did you not want to come?" Craig asked after they had crossed the tracks. "You could have said that."

"No, I did," Tweek said softly, eyes still trained outside. He wasn't so sure Craig believed him.

"You know, you can tell me things. About like, how you're feeling, you know."

Tweek risked a glance. Craig looked blank. "I know."

Craig shut his car off and waited for Tweek to get out first. He ended up ankle deep in a snowbank trying to skirt around the side of Craig's car to the street. Craig steadied his arm and Tweek took in Kenny's place - he couldn't recall the last time he had been over, but it didn't look like much had changed. The garage door was still stubbornly bent at an odd angle, and a broken refrigerator that was probably older than both Craig and Tweek combined stood frozen to the right of the house. Tweek sucked in a breath and followed Craig to the door.

Kenny's house was dark. He didn't know where his parents were, though Tweek wasn't so sure he wanted to know. Craig ushered him to the basement. The wooden steps groaned under their combined weight.

A futon was pulled out in the middle of the concrete floor. Stan and Kyle were stretched out playing games on the television that sat atop a carton of some sort, and Kenny was propped up against Clyde's leg in the corner of the futon. They were both huddled around a phone, passing the ceramic cigarette from Cartman's party between each other. Melancholy hip-hop was playing softly, and Tweek wasn't so sure what he was supposed to do with himself in this environment.

Kenny noticed them enter the room and peeled himself away from Clyde to retrieve two beers from under the futon. He tossed them toward Craig and Tweek, and Tweek nearly dropped his in the unexpected exchange.

Craig eyed him for a moment, but Tweek shrugged and cracked the can.

"Thanks, Kenny," Craig said. He sat down on the opposite end of the futon and shoved Stan's legs out of his way.

The room smelled sweet and thick, a toss-up between the scent of damp basement and weed, with a touch of dirtiness that wasn't unlike Craig's room. Tweek thought this was probably what cool looked like, pressed somewhere between a washer unit and dehumidifier, drinking beer on a weeknight. The beer had the same flavor as how Tweek expected the room to taste, but with a citrus overtone. He didn't recognize the label.

Tweek sat down next to Craig and Kenny stared at them expectantly.

"What?"

"Nuthin'," Kenny answered, leaning back and connecting with Clyde again. "You two are just so cute, that's all."

"...Thanks," Tweek muttered over the lip to his beer can. Craig didn't seem to notice, instead engrossing himself into the game that Kyle and Stan were playing.

"You're welcome," Kenny continued. He motioned for Tweek to come closer to them. With some hesitation, Tweek did as was suggested.

"Dude, you gotta check this out," Clyde said, gesturing toward his phone.

Tweek leaned in closer to the phone. Clyde was referring to a very heated, and very public conversation on Facebook between Cartman and Heidi.

"What's g-going on?" Tweek asked.

"Cartman said Heidi's been talking to Kind of Incredible a whole lot, and, well…"

"She's definitely cheating," Kenny insisted with a salacious grin.

"Okay," Tweek said tentatively. He read through the messages again.

Clyde and Kenny continued to discuss the development. Tweek listened but found it difficult to piece together their opinions on the matter - his eyes kept getting drawn to the television. Craig had taken over a game of _Tekken_ against Kyle since Stan had lost.

"Dude, are you guys still talking about that?" Stan asked, cracking into a beer.

Kenny waved him off. Tweek met Stan's eyes and he shook his head incredulously.

"So what's up, Tweek?" he asked.

"Not much," Tweek answered honestly. "Been working a lot."

"That's what Craig was saying," Stan replied. Tweek could feel his chest tighten with how forced the conversation felt. Stan looked like he was searching for something to say. "Hey, have you been out to Games Workshop lately? They released a new set. Looked pretty sweet."

"Yeah." Tweek nervously started to explain the lore behind pirate sky dwarves, and how they mined for gold in clouds. He wasn't sure if Stan was feigning interest or not.

"That sounds cool. I wish it didn't cost so much to get into that kind of thing," Stan mused.

Tweek agreed. "You can win a lot of money, though. There's c-contests and stuff."

Stan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "If only I had any talent with painting, dude."

Craig ended up pressing the controller into Tweek's hands as he got up to use the restroom. Kyle seemed to be yet undefeated. Tweek didn't think that would change much with him behind the controller.

As it turned out, his suspicion was right. Tweek handed off his controller to Stan with a casual shrug.

"Smo'?" Kenny asked as Craig came back into the room.

"You know it," Craig answered.

Tweek watched Kenny dig around for a metal container - a grinder, he'd called it - and pinch some of the aromatic crumbles into a glass piece. Kenny lit the bowl, then passed it to Craig, who took a long draw from it before passing it off to Clyde. Tweek watched him light it too, then insistently try to give it to Tweek.

"Oh, I dunno," Tweek said weakly, pulling away from them.

"Come on, Tweek," Kenny persisted. "You could learn to loosen up every once in awhile."

Tweek didn't have to protest because Craig sent Kenny a vicious scowl. Tweek reached for the bowl, watching Clyde exhale heavily from the drag he'd held in.

"I've never done this before," Tweek said honestly. His only recollection of being high had ever been from inside the four white walls of a hospital room.

"It's easy," Kenny insisted as he weaseled his way up to him. "Put your mouth _here_ , and your thumb _here_ , and… you know what? I'll hold it for you."

Tweek felt his heart pound in his ears. Craig was watching them closely.

"You just light the bowl, and inhale."

He did as was instructed. Tweek had tried one of Craig's cigarettes once - it ended with him coughing and really light-headed. This time wasn't much different, except the feeling was coupled with an extreme tightness and burning in his throat. Tweek almost threw up from the coughing, eyes shut tight and watering. He felt Kenny pat him on the back.

"If you feel like you're going to cough, try to exhale everything first," Kenny warned.

"That tastes… so bad…" Tweek managed to get the coughing under control, but his throat still felt like there were lit coals in it.

"Yeah, I haven't cleaned this in a while," Kenny admitted, eyeing the built-up char in the bowl. "At least you didn't get a mouth full of res."

Tweek took a long sip from his barely cold beer, preferring its acrid taste to the ashiness of his mouth.

"So this grinder has a keef tray," Kenny continued, sliding a piece of the metal grinder apart to show Craig a fine dusting of forest green that had collected in the hidden tray. "I pressed some of it into hash when it got full. We should smoke it sometime."

Craig agreed through a mouthful of store-brand chips. "How much does that shit sell for?"

Kenny scoffed. "More than I can afford."

"You could sell it to make a few bucks," Craig suggested.

"Naw, man. It's like a special treat. You know, like they used to give in those crackerjack boxes."

"Dude, no one eats crackerjacks," Stan cut in.

Kenny looked taken aback. "You shut your whore mouth, talking about my precious crackerjacks like that."

Tweek felt the edges of his vision darken, like he was staring down a long, dark hallway. He tried to fight the panic welling up in his throat. "Uh, guys?"

"What, they got cases of expired popcorn at the food shelves now?" Stan drawled. Kenny delivered a sound punch to his shoulder.

"Crackerjack is still in business, fuck you very much."

"I don't feel s-so good," Tweek said. "Am I supposed to feel like this? My head feels fuzzy."

"Duh, Tweek. You're high."

Tweek tried to swallow, but his mouth was drier than the desert. The attempt almost made him gag. "How do I make it stop?" he asked desperately.

"You don't," Kenny cut in seriously. "You just ride it out and enjoy it while it lasts."

"How long is this going to last?" Tweek demanded. Craig put his hand on Tweek's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. "Am I going to have to go home like this?"

Kenny laughed. "Do you mean, do you _get_ to go home like this?"

"Dude, my m-mom would fucking kill me. I'm not joking. How long is this going to last?"

Kenny stared at him for a long moment. "It sounds like you need some more."

"What? No!" Tweek hissed, running his hands through his hair.

"Look. It was your decision to smoke, and if you think you're gonna be a nervous wreck-"

Craig cleared his throat.

"That's not what I mean," Kenny added. "Really. Sometimes people get paranoid when they smoke. It sucks. But if you smoke a little more, then that's gonna go away."

Tweek looked at Craig, eyes wide and feeling like every movement of his body was too sudden to feel natural. Craig nodded.

"I'll light it for you again," Kenny offered, brandishing the bowl a second time.

Tweek stared at the bowl and took a deep, hesitant breath but he was already in it so deep that he figured it couldn't get any worse. He went for it, this time following Kenny's instructions to exhale before he coughed. He went for a handful of chips to rid the taste from his mouth again.

He watched the controller pass through a few hands after that. A pleasant silence had ebbed away at most of the noise in Tweek's head. He felt relaxed. Tweek loved it. Despite the fact that he felt like his limbs weighed a ton and like he wasn't quite attached to his body, he felt peaceful. Like he'd taken a backseat to his own brain. He wondered if this was what being normal was supposed to be like - able to sort through his ideas and feelings one by one, rather than battle with the inundation all at once. Tweek watched Clyde and Stan play _Tekken_ for what seemed like an hour.

Craig shook his shoulder gently, looking intent.

"What?"

"You hungry?" he asked. "We're going to order some food."

Tweek licked his lips. "Starving."

"Cool. Can I borrow your phone? Mine's dead."

Tweek fished his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to Craig. They had settled on pizza. Craig tapped away at the phone's screen and Tweek let his attention drift back to the video game, content that every other noise in the room seemed to fade to the background when he concentrated on something.

"I'm so thirsty right now…" Tweek mumbled.

Craig laughed and Tweek looked up. Craig's eyes were squinted at the corners and Tweek realized he was squinting too. Craig handed him a soda, which Tweek accepted gratefully.

When the pizza arrived, Tweek thought his stomach was going to eat its way out of his abdomen. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be hungry.

"Don't forget to breathe," Craig said, watching Tweek shovel away a slice of pizza.

"So good," Tweek mumbled.

Everyone seemed to think Tweek's reactions were hilarious. He felt a bit put on the spot, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing either - his cheeks felt sore from smiling so much. It was easier like this, just existing with everybody.

"You like it?" Craig asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I feel great."

He ended up pressed against Craig's side. With a belly full of pizza, he started to feel tired staring at the screen for so long. Tweek had to make a conscious effort to blink. Despite being relaxed, he couldn't help but feel that his happiness was misplaced, that he was acting strange, but just like Kenny, his brain kept telling him to just roll with it.

Kyle and Stan stood up to stretch and gather their bags.

"Can we hit one more time?" Kyle asked. Kenny handed him a fresh bowl with a nod.

"Careful on the drive home," Kenny said dismissively.

"Hey, Craig. Can I get a ride with you?" Clyde asked, reaching for the still-smouldering pipe.

Craig nodded and picked up the controllers, thrusting one into Tweek's hand. "Sure."

"I don't know if I can p-play right now," Tweek said honestly. "Can we watch something instead?"

" _Haunted Ice Road Trucker Moms, Home Makeover Edition_?" Kenny suggested lazily. He stretched out on the emptied futon and waggled his eyebrows.

"Can we n-not?"

Kenny laughed. "Dude, it's not even scary."

"I didn't say that!"

Kyle and Stan said their goodbyes and disappeared up the stairs.

"Careful for Missy. It's her hunting time!" Kenny called after them, referring to the stray cat that usually stalked his property at night.

"Didn't you have a funeral for that cat in like, seventh grade?" Craig asked pointedly.

"That was the first Missy," Kenny said. "I named them all Missy."

"That's dumb."

Kenny shrugged. He toed the remote closer to Clyde, gesturing expectantly at the television while he lit up again. Craig withdrew a cigarette, playing with Tweek's fingers with his other hand.

"So, about this trip to Denver," Clyde started as he flipped through some channels.

"What about it?"

"Well, who all is coming?"

Craig stared at the ceiling. "Us four, as far as I know. Stan and Kyle said they'd be down to go."

Kenny snorted and rolled over to face Craig. "So a total sausage-fest, then."

"Well, I don't see any girls here right now," Craig put in sarcastically. "Invite whoever you want. Just gimme a headcount so I know how many hotel rooms to get."

"Ohh, that's a dangerous thing to say," Kenny teased. " _Whoever_ I want?"

Craig frowned. "Within reason, dude."

Tweek nodded off during their discussion of travel logistics punctuated with pipe hits. He was awoken by Clyde's phone ringing - it was his mom, asking where he was. Kenny had fallen asleep too, having smoked himself into exhaustion, and it was just Craig and Clyde awake and chatting. They gathered their things.

They got halfway up the stairs, bags in tow, before Tweek hesitated. "Shouldn't we do something about that?"

There was still garbage strewn about the room. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Craig picked up the pizza boxes and other detritus while Tweek and Clyde gathered beer cans. Craig lifted his leg up to toe Kenny in the side. "Hey. You sleeping down here, dude?"

Kenny rolled over and grumbled something unintelligible before waving them off. "Just leave it."

Craig tsked and started heading toward the stairs. Tweek wasn't sure if there was much more any of them could do, so he followed. They put the evidence of their night into the garbage bins at the end of the McCormick residence, then piled into Craig's car. It took a few minutes to warm up.

"Is Kenny okay?" Tweek asked suddenly.

Craig glanced over to him while he rubbed his hands together to warm them. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno…" Tweek started. "He's sleeping on a futon in his basement." It was so much more than that, though.

"He calls it the dungeon," Clyde volunteered lethargically from the backseat. "It's just what he does."

Tweek frowned, trying to figure out what felt so wrong to him, but he was too high to follow the thought too deeply and Craig seemed content to leave the explanation there. He spent the drive trying to figure it out.

"Got any plans for the weekend?" Craig asked. It was almost midnight.

"I don't work t-tomorrow, actually. Saturday, I do."

"I work Saturday too," Craig said.

Tweek snorted. "I didn't think they'd keep you on this long with h-how much you skip work."

"Dude, I'm in high school. It's what they signed up for when they hired me," Craig defended. "Did you want to do something tomorrow? Like see a movie… or something?"

Tweek thought about it for a moment. "Can we smoke?"

Craig laughed. "Sure. I bought some off Kenny for us since you liked it so much."

They pulled into Tweek's driveway and he smiled to himself, collecting his book bag. He felt genuinely worn out, and Tweek hoped that was enough to fall asleep right away.

"Hey, Tweek?"

He looked over at Craig, who was looking straight forward with his stoic expression on his face, the one Tweek only really saw when they were in public.

"What?"

"I'm not going to give you shit about today. But seriously, dude. Just tell me if you're going to be at the doctor. Don't lie and tell me that you're working."

Tweek swallowed sharply. "Okay. I… I didn't mean to. I just…"

"And clear your browsing history," Craig added, expression cracking with a spark of coyness in his eyes.

Tweek spluttered out something halfway between an apology and a denial of wrongdoing, attempting to free the door handle. He got it on the second try.

"I just had some questions about it. You know, like two guys and all, considering that we… Well, they don't exactly t-teach that in our school and, God, it doesn't matter, does it?"

"No."

"'Kay, bye," Tweek cut off quickly as he shut the door to Craig's car a bit more forcefully than he intended to. He nearly tripped in the snow as he started trudging through his lawn. Tweek risked a glance back at Craig - he was laughing. Craig composed himself when Tweek flipped him off. Craig blew a kiss at him and sped down the road.

Tweek was still blushing when he shut himself in his room. He kicked himself for even having let his curiosity get the better of him, vowing that he wouldn't look up videos like that again. Craig wasn't going to let that go. Ever. Tweek busied himself with meticulously going over his nightly routine, even going as far as setting his clothes out for the next day. Eventually, he picked the pill bottle up off his nightstand and twisted the top off.

The pill felt the same in his hand as the last few weeks, but he wondered apprehensively what kind of person the medication was going to turn him into. He was already groggy and sluggish half the day, anxious and wired the rest, and the latter had constituted much less of his days as his dosage increased. Tweek vaguely wondered how South Park would handle a zombie apocalypse if the pills turned him into one.

Tweek threw his head back and dry-swallowed the pill before climbing into his bed. Just as he was about to fall asleep, his phone buzzed next to his head, jolting him awake.

It was Craig.

The message was a video attachment. Tweek clicked on it without thinking, and it opened with a video very much like the one that Craig must have caught on his screen. He quickly clicked out of the screen.

Tweek: Craig what the fuck

Craig: just watch it

Tweek: No.

Tweek: I'm going to bed.

Craig: your the one that had questions

Craig: this has answers

Craig: LOTS of answers

Tweek: Goodnight, Craig.

Craig: night my little puritan

Tweek: Really?

Craig: just watch it.

Tweek closed his messages and sighed loudly to himself feeling like there was steam decompressing out of his ears. He had his arm slung across his eyes. The pressure on his eyeballs made his head feel good. He weighed his options, but let his curiosity get the better of him eventually, knowing he wouldn't be able to fall asleep if he didn't know what was in that video.

As it had turned out, Craig was right.

Tweek went to bed shocked full of more knowledge about the male anatomy than he ever would have wanted to know, now enlightened to the definitions of frotting, rimming, and a host of other new vocabulary.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

He wanted Craig to come over after school. Tweek had had enough of spending time in other people's company or, at least, having to constantly be spatially aware of his body in someone else's home. It was one less thing nagging on his mind, being able to relax behind his own four walls. He trusted Craig enough that he wasn't worried about any of that when they were just hanging out together - Tweek relished the quiet of their past study date.

And with the medication leaving him feeling foggy and a little distant, Tweek thought that staying home would be the best thing for him. If he got to smoke with Craig, then he might be able to eat something and get rid of the hunger headache eating away at his brain. Tweek hadn't been able to keep his lunch down at school and his breakfast had consisted of little more than a cup of coffee and a granola bar.

The dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse, Tweek noticed as he picked up his room. Maybe he really was turning into a zombie.

Craig let himself in and announced his presence at the bottom of the stairs. Tweek straightened up and decided that the pile of dirty laundry on his floor would look better nestled in a heap on the chair by his wardrobe.

"Your parents aren't home?" Craig asked, poking his head into Tweek's room.

"They're at work," Tweek admitted with a shrug. He didn't ask them for permission for Craig to come over anymore, mostly because he knew his parents wouldn't mind, but also because he didn't want his mom to look at him with the same coy expression from the coffeeshop.

"Cool." Craig stepped into his room and set his bag down by the door, making his way over to the shelves above Tweek's desk. "These are coming along nicely."

Tweek joined Craig to see the figures that he was looking at. "I haven't had time to work on them in a while."

"Well, they look pretty good. I still don't know how you build all those tiny things."

"It's not th-that hard," Tweek said. "They come in a little box. You just cut them out and glue them together."

"But you paint on all the details," Craig insisted, glancing down at Tweek's hands which were usually fidgeting or trembling, or some combination thereof. "And they look like… like _Lord of the Rings_ shit."

Tweek chuckled. "Well, thanks," he added, rubbing the back of his neck at the compliment.

"For sure." Craig tore his attention away from the figures and stepped around the room before deciding to plop down in the middle of Tweek's bed.

"How's that new stuff working for you?" Craig asked.

Tweek sighed. "Too soon to t-tell, really. But I'm dizzy. And tired. And hungry."

Craig cocked an eyebrow. "Don't hate me for saying this, but you look it."

"I figured."

"If you're hungry, we can get some popcorn at the theater," Craig suggested.

Tweek sat down next to Craig on the bed. "I was thinking we could just stay in," he admitted guiltily.

"That's fine," Craig answered without missing a beat. He lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers down Tweek's arm. Tweek shivered at the touch.

"You don't mind?"

"There isn't much out right now. Not that I want to see anyway. Just thought it would be something to do."

Tweek balked, suddenly hit with the idea that Craig thought he was being trite. "I mean… We can still go out a-and see something. If you want. I can deal with it."

Craig shook his head. "If you're feeling bad we can just stay in. It's no big deal."

"You don't think I'm boring?"

"No," Craig admitted. "I don't really care what we do. I just want to smoke and chill tonight."

Tweek nodded in assent. Craig shuffled through his pockets and came up with a small pipe, his lighter, and a crumpled plastic bag.

"Did you want to smoke out of the bowl? Or I can mix some of it with tobacco and pack it back into a cigarette, if you want," Craig offered.

"Whatever is easiest."

"The bowl it is, then!"

Tweek opened his bedroom window while Craig assembled the materials. He figured a few minutes of being blasted with cold air was better than his parents demanding to know what the smell in his room was. Craig lit the bowl first, taking a long drag before passing it off to Tweek. He took too much at once but tried to hold it in his lungs for as long as he could before exhaling in a clumsy puff. Craig laughed and they passed the bowl between each other a few times until Tweek got up to turn the television on. Craig insisted on having a cigarette before Tweek shut the window.

"Please make sure you don't get any ash on my bed," Tweek said, shifting around for a moment to find a makeshift ashtray for Craig. He settled on the lid to one of his long-abandoned paints.

"Thanks."

Tweek slipped into a sweater to fend off the winter air coming in from the window above his bed, then climbed in next to Craig with the remote, relishing in the fact that he could just lay around for a while. Craig wrapped his arm around Tweek's side, and before long, he ended up slumped across Craig's lap to sap his warmth. His eyes felt dry and sore so he shut them. Craig shifted to shut the window, then rubbed circles into Tweek's lower back.

"Your feet stink," Tweek mumbled.

"Rude," Craig chuckled above him. But Craig shifted under Tweek so his feet weren't so close to Tweek's face. "Better?"

"Yeah."

Craig patted Tweek's back and flipped through a few channels before settling on something Tweek couldn't make out from audio alone.

"Are you doing all right?"

Tweek shifted a bit. "I haven't been feeling so hot lately," he admitted into the fabric of Craig's jeans.

"I know, Tweek," Craig answered gently.

"My brain just feels all sorts of fucked."

Craig ran his fingers up Tweek's back, then through his hair. Tweek liked the feeling, the gentle massage against his scalp. "How so?"

"I can't describe it. It's like a s-suffocating feeling," Tweek explained.

"You said the pills have to work a while before they kick in, right?" Craig asked, easing Tweek into laying on his side next to him.

"Yeah. I hope. I mean, I feel different… I just… Don't really feel like me."

"Well, you still look like you," Craig said playfully. He pulled Tweek closer to him and stuck his nose into Tweek's hair. He flailed uncomfortably in Craig's arms, eyes still crunched shut, his brain slowly quieting with the onset of THC.

"I'm serious," Tweek insisted.

"I am, too," Craig said candidly.

Tweek sighed and relaxed into their closeness. He ended up resting his cheek on Craig's shoulder - he could hear Craig's heartbeat, which was steady and constant. He wished he had the words to explain exactly what was going through his mind, but he couldn't quite grasp them properly.

"Are you hungry?" Craig asked suddenly.

Tweek grunted. "I can't tell anymore."

"What? Whether you're hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when's the last time you've eaten?" Craig pressed, suspicion cutting into his tone.

Tweek thought for a moment, trying to recall the last substantial meal he'd had that hadn't ended up coming out the wrong end into a toilet. "At Kenny's."

"Dude. You haven't eaten in twenty-four hours. Of course you're hungry."

Tweek grumbled and turned away from Craig. He'd gone longer than that without eating in recent weeks, but saying so out loud didn't feel like the best idea. "You sound like my doctor."

"Stay here," Craig said as he stood up. "I'll go get you something."

Tweek tried to tell him that he didn't need to, but Craig was gone before he could get the words out. He ended up falling asleep in his bed while Craig was raiding his kitchen. Tweek was woken up to a bag of tortilla chips and some cold salsa from his fridge, a few steaming hotdogs, and a microwavable macaroni and cheese meal. He eyed it skeptically, but Craig appeared to have honestly tried his hardest. Tweek tore pieces of the hotdog buns apart and ate them dipped in ketchup and macaroni cheese while Craig picked at a few chips.

"Thanks," Tweek said sheepishly.

"Did you want to smoke again? I think it'll help with your appetite," Craig offered, holding up the lighter again.

Tweek bit his lip and nodded. He took the pipe again and held it to his lips, a little mortified with himself at how familiar the motions had become to him.

"Good thing I picked some of this up. I had a feeling you'd like smoking," Craig lauded.

"What made you think that?" Tweek asked, settling back against his pillows.

Craig crawled his way up to Tweek's side. "I dunno. Just a gut feeling."

Tweek eyed him suspiciously. "...Is that wh-why you asked me to come over to Kenny's house?"

Craig shrugged, hiding a small smile. "Who's to say?"

"Dude."

"No!" Craig insisted, holding his hands up to defend himself jokingly. "I asked you to Kenny's house because the guys were asking about you, and I can only tell them that you're fine so many times before they start spreading rumors that I've secretly murdered you and hid your body."

"What?"

"It's a joke. I wanted to spend time with you. That's why I've been so insistent that you hang out with me these past couple of days."

"Good." Satisfied, Tweek resituated himself so he could rest his eyes again. Craig stroked Tweek's arm like that while he watched television.

"Did you watch that video that I sent you?" Craig asked suddenly.

Tweek furrowed his brows, thinking about what to say. "Why?"

"Is that a yes or a no?" Craig pressed.

" _Why_?"

Craig rolled his eyes and shifted to fetch his phone from his pocket. "I'll take your answer as a no, then, and we can watch it right now. Together."

"Okay! I watched it!" Tweek hissed, batting Craig's phone away.

"Good. Did you see anything that you liked?"

Tweek sucked in a breath. "Oh, my God, Craig. This isn't some sort of choose-your-own-adventure magazine catalogue."

Craig continued, ignoring Tweek's protests. "I hope it answered some of your questions."

"Well, it did, for the most part," Tweek answered honestly. He clenched his jaw and tried to stare intently through tired eyes at the television, but Craig caught the side of his face and pulled him in for a kiss.

Tweek huffed. "What are you d-doing?"

"Trying to keep your mind off what's bothering you," Craig answered, deadpan, pressing another kiss to Tweek's unyielding mouth.

"Well, now you're bothering me," he seethed.

"Harsh words," Craig said.

"I think you can handle it."

Craig kissed him a third time, determined to make it stick. Tweek kept his eyes open and refused to give in until Craig laced their fingers together and lifted Tweek's hands above his head. Tweek could feel Craig's body weight distribute above him as their tongues met.

Tweek's heart started to pound in his ears when Craig pressed a knee between Tweek's thighs. He could feel his cock twitch painfully under his jeans which caused him to arch and tense. Craig caressed Tweek's jaw and neck until he relaxed, trying to convince himself that he was _fine_ , that he wanted this. He focused on his breathing and trying to time his breaths between clumsy kisses, eventually deciding that he liked when Craig's tongue tickled the roof of his mouth. Eyes closed, it was a much easier rhythm to slip into with the THC running through his brain, making the ever-present feeling of impending doom much less easy to distinguish from the flurry of other emotions behind his eyes.

Craig kissed Tweek's neck, then at his sharp collarbones and Tweek thought vaguely what he'd say if he had marks there tomorrow. Whether he would wear a scarf into work, or what he would do if the marks lasted until Monday. Tweek reminded himself that it didn't matter as he settled a hand on one of Craig's knees, rubbing the faded blue jeans with his thumb. His other hand was braced tightly against Craig's bicep.

"What are you doing?" Tweek gasped suddenly. His fingers tightened considerably on Craig's arm as Craig palmed his crotch.

"Just trust me," Craig mumbled into Tweek's throat.

Tweek sucked down a breath, fidgeting under Craig's touch. The feeling was uncomfortable, but stimulating, and he was worried that he'd chew through his lower lip if it continued much longer. Craig started at the buttons on Tweek's pants and he jumped, still pinned under Craig's weight.

"We don't have to do anything that you don't want to," Craig assured him. There was a headiness and urgency in his voice that Tweek didn't recognize. "But you should really just trust me on this."

Tweek couldn't get anything out around the lump that had formed in his throat. He simply stared at Craig, mouth slightly open and panting with an excited and nervous tingle in his fingertips.

"Okay?" Craig pressed a reassuring kiss to Tweek's lips.

"O-Okay."

"So you just tell me to stop if you want me to."

Tweek nodded and Craig kissed him again, continuing to work at the fly to Tweek's jeans. He wiggled his hips as Craig slid them down his ass. When Craig stroked Tweek through the fabric of his underwear, he gasped, stiffening under the contact a second time. Tweek grabbed at a fistful of Craig's hair.

"Relax," Craig coaxed. He sat up briefly to untangle Tweek's fingers from his hair, before resituating himself above Tweek. Tweek tried to clear his mind and only focus on what was going on in front of him as Craig lifted the hemline to his shirt to expose his abdomen. He could count his ribs looking down at Craig. His raised hipbones left a small gap between the fabric of his underwear and his sunken belly. Tweek turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut when Craig kissed his stomach.

Like most times, Tweek didn't know what to do with his hands, but he found them fisting handfuls of his bedsheets when Craig started to go down on him. Tweek let out an involuntary moan at the feeling of Craig's lips running down the length of his cock.

"Jesus, Craig..." Tweek hissed, rolling his hips into Craig's hands which were held firmly in Craig's grip. The television playing softly in the background helped drone out any distrust or panic that was threatening to eat away at Tweek's esophagus. It was nice to have something other than Craig's hot breath at the base of his erection to focus on. Tweek shivered and his toes curled as Craig worked on him.

"Craig… Craig, stop. Stop. I'm gonna…"

Tweek arched his back and sucked down a few gasps. Craig kissed at his bared belly and slid the pad of his thumb over the head of Tweek's cock, prompting another unsolicited moan from his lips. He didn't last more than a few pumps after that.

He felt the mattress shift. Craig came back with some tissues and Tweek felt awkward cleaning up and rebuttoning his pants. Was he expected to reciprocate right away? The afterglow left him feeling twitchy and completely un-put-together - all he could muster for a while was just to lay there and stare at his ceiling, trying to steady his breathing.

Craig was right, though. Tweek did feel better. His muscles felt like liquid in his arms and legs, and he could appreciate the softness of his bed when he closed his eyes. Craig settled back in beside Tweek.

"You didn't have to do that," Tweek said, glancing over at Craig.

"I wanted to," he answered simply.

Tweek curled into himself, feeling warm for what felt like the first time in forever. "Why?"

"Because you're my boyfriend and I want to do shit with you. What do you mean why?" Craig asked brashly, miffed. Tweek wrung his fingers awkwardly.

"I don't… really know what I m-meant by that either."

"Do you not want to, y'know…"

"What?" Tweek asked tiredly.

"Be physical," Craig settled on.

"I like it," Tweek admitted quickly, more to himself than to Craig. He settled back into the pillows to escape the awkwardness that had bloomed from Tweek's quiet prying. He couldn't help it. There was always a constant nagging in his head that forced him to doubt himself, to read into things more than was probably good for him, and despite how comfortable around Craig that Tweek was, the anxiety didn't exclude him. Tweek chewed his lip. He couldn't exactly tell Craig that things had started to move too fast. Hell, they'd been a packaged deal since elementary school. And they weren't, not really, moving too fast.

Craig _liked_ him, and Tweek wasn't sure why he had such a hard time wrapping his head around that, why the whole thing felt uncomfortable. Tweek liked Craig, too. Or at least, the idea of him anyway. He'd had a hard time lately differentiating the Craig that was sitting next to him with the Craig that constantly plagued his thoughts when he was alone. Tweek wondered briefly if the two Craigs were indeed the same.

"You don't think I'm crazy?" Tweek blurted. Craig looked like he had forgotten about their conversation, turning his attention to the television.

"What?"

Tweek shifted. "Well, I mean, with everything that's b-been going on…"

"No, Tweek. I don't think you're crazy," Craig said.

That came as a minor relief, Tweek decided as he picked at the skin around his fingernails.

"Do you?"

"Huh?" Tweek asked.

"Do you think you're crazy?" Craig pressed.

Tweek looked up at him. "Sometimes," he admitted.

"Why?"

"You know how like, when you run for a while, and your body feels all worn out? And you're really out of breath?" Tweek explained. "That's what m-my brain feels like. All the time."

Craig tore his eyes away from the television and pulled himself closer to Tweek. "That sucks, dude."

"And this stupid shit that they put my on just feels like they're trying to throw a blanket over it." Tweek scrubbed at his eyes with the palms on his hands with a groan. "I can still feel it. It doesn't g-go away. I can't sleep, I can hardly eat…"

Craig stroked Tweek's arm as he listened.

"I just can't imagine that you, a functionally healthy human being, would want anything to do with what's going on in my head. I'm not normal. I'm not-"

"Stop," Craig cut in. He pulled Tweek's hands away from his face with a frown. Tweek's eyes felt puffy and red, but he wasn't crying - he was too dried out and drained for that. "You're my boyfriend, but you're my friend first. I know you're hurting right now. And that's okay. Tweek, you're going to turn out just fine."

Tweek let out a noise between a groan and a sigh. He'd heard that line repeated and rephrased so many times over the last several years.

"Babe, I'm serious. Just give it some more time." Tweek let Craig wrap his arm around him. "Do you want to smoke a little more?"

Tweek twisted in Craig's grip to get more comfortable. "Yeah."

"Have you been outside at all today?" Craig asked as he lit the bowl for Tweek.

"I walked home from school," he managed through the smoke pouring from his lungs. Tweek snuck a hesitant look outside at the pervasive darkness.

"Well, getting outside for a bit always helps me when I'm feeling like shit."

Tweek shrugged. The idea required too much effort and ran the risk of running into someone that he didn't want to talk to. Which was pretty much everybody at this point. "It's dark out."

"We can walk down to the convenience store. I'll buy you one of those chocolate rice krispy bars that you like."

Tweek pined after the warmth from beneath his blankets as Craig got to his feet. He hesitantly followed suit, then shrugged into a sweater and piled his jacket on over that. Craig didn't look nearly as ready to face the elements in his navy parka - Tweek was struck with the thought that maybe it only seemed so cold to him. Craig pulled his hat off and stuffed it on Tweek's head.

"I have plenty of hats," Tweek protested.

"Yeah but you don't look as good in those as you do in mine."

Tweek rolled his eyes and made for the door to mask the light blush that had colored his cheeks. He ended up stuffing his hands into his pockets to combat the fierce cold outside.

"It's supposed to snow in a few hours," Craig lamented, staring at the sky as they made their way down the sidewalk. "Gotta get up even _earlier_ for work now."

"How long is the drive?" Tweek asked.

"Like, a half hour. I have to be there at four, so… I gotta get up at like, three now."

Tweek stuck close to Craig's side as they walked. His thighs felt frozen, and his breath came out in quick puffs of condensation against the popped collar of his jacket.

"Why do you want to work there?"

Craig snorted. "I don't."

"Then why do you?" Tweek pressed, frowning.

"It pays a fuck ton more than anything I could get part-time around here. Plus, carrying around boxes in a warehouse and unloading trucks all morning does well for these guns," Craig explained. He lifted one of his arms and flexed with a grin. His muscles were obscured by the baggy jacket.

"Mm," Tweek agreed. He did like Craig's arms.

"Do you like working at the coffee shop?" Craig asked. "I suppose I never asked."

"Yeah. I mean, I get to help my folks out. They d-don't really like, give me paychecks, it's more under the table."

"Ohh, tax evasion," Craig said scandalously, wagging his eyebrows.

Tweek laughed. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I mean, if I ask them for money, they never really say no."

They arrived at the brightly lit convenience store. It hurt Tweek's eyes adjusting to the buzzing fluorescence after walking under the softly illuminated street lights the entire way there. The colorful packages of snacks felt unnatural as he looked around, and Tweek suddenly became aware that he was high as a kite in public.

He followed Craig around for the most part, wondering if everyone around them was staring, or if he was just imagining it. Tweek tried to play it cool as he skimmed product labels, eventually settling on a pack of cookies and a green tea. Craig had a few energy drinks in his hands as they made their way to the checkout counter. Craig insisted on paying which Tweek was thankful for. He didn't think he could count out the required bills from his wallet without seeming suspicious. Tweek decided on getting a snack stick that was rolling lazily by the clerk on a set of hot rollers.

"Dude, these l-look so good."

Craig chuckled and grabbed the plastic bag. The stinging cold outside hurt Tweek's cheeks, but he steeled himself long enough to take a few bites of the snack roll.

"Can I get a bite of that?" Craig asked.

Tweek shared a few bites of his chalupa with Craig as they walked. It felt like it was taking a lot longer than the walk there. He finished the snack when they passed the park. Craig turned down the path toward the playgym.

"Where are you going?" Tweek asked.

"Do you want to hang out at the park for a little bit?" Craig challenged, gesturing to the plastic rungs and platforms. Tweek shifted uncomfortably.

"Dude, it's fucking freezing out."

Craig shrugged and continued toward the playgym. "You can wear my mittens if you want to," he offered.

Tweek hesitated, but he eventually followed Craig to the playgym. He clambered up the steps in suit and settled next to Craig on the rubber platform next to the entrance to the slide, pulling his knees up to his chest to conserve warmth. Craig fished a beer from his bag and opened it, then lit a cigarette. Tweek found the combined scents to be familiar in a comforting sort of way.

"Check out the sky."

Tweek looked up. The stars were a bright smattering of pinpoints in the sky, obscured only occasionally by a passing cloud. He liked that about South Park, that he could see the stars at night, unlike the trips into the city where the glare of flashy fluorescent signs made it impossible to discern even the brightest of stars.

"It's pretty," Tweek admitted.

"I like to come out here and sit by myself sometimes," Craig explained candidly. "Not usually when it's this cold out though."

Tweek stuffed his frozen fingers between his thighs to warm them up. "How come?"

"Blow off some steam. Be alone for a bit."

"Have your p-parents been fighting?" Tweek asked quietly.

Craig was silent for a moment. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You don't have to be sorry for anything."

"I know. I just feel bad for you."

Craig turned to face him, brows knitted. "You don't need to do that."

Tweek frowned, glancing back skyward. He took a deep breath and put on his best Craig impersonation voice. "You know, you can t-talk to me about stuff. Like, what you're feeling… if you want."

"Oh, my God, Tweek," Craig chuckled, landing a sound shove to Tweek's shoulder in retort. "You really _can_ make jokes."

"Duh."

Craig sighed and started in on a second cigarette. "No, but my parents really have been fighting a lot lately. I try to stay out of it. Gives me a headache having to listen to all that."

"What are they fighting about?" Tweek asked.

"I dunno. Stupid shit, I guess. They're worried about money and college. My little sister had been a shithead at school. I probably don't help the situation much either," Craig continued, a faraway look on his face. He gestured to the beer he'd filtched from his dad. "He gets pretty pissed when I bottom out his twelve pack."

Tweek couldn't say that he'd blame Craig's dad for that.

"I think they've given up on me. Which is fine. At least I don't get pulled into arguments anymore about staying out late or smoking. I still get the shit end of a screaming match when I cut class, but I think they've accepted that I'm not exactly their perfect angel anymore."

Tweek shifted, unsure of how to respond to Craig's admission. He didn't know how he'd handle Craig's household if their roles were reversed - he already put himself down enough inside his own head. Having his parents there doing that alongside him wasn't exactly something Tweek thought he could cope with. "I'm sorry you're going through that," Tweek offered weakly. "But you can c-camp over at my place whenever."

"Thanks."

Tweek worried his lip as exhaustion washed over him. Neither of them seemed to have it as easy as the other would have liked. Craig handed him a lighter and the bowl.

"Isn't this super illegal?" Tweek asked, eyeing the offered paraphernalia. He took it anyway.

"Well, yeah," Craig said easily. "So is this and this." He gestured to his smoldering cigarette and his beer. "I've never gotten caught out here, so either the cops don't check, or they don't care."

"Okay." Tweek was already in the process of lighting up. "Were you thinking about going to college, then?"

Craig shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. I mean, I feel like trade school is just as good of an education. Less work, too."

"What are you thinking about going for?"

"I haven't exactly figured that out yet," Craig admitted. He crossed his legs and alternated between a drag from his cigarette and beer. "Computers are probably a safe bet."

Tweek cocked an eyebrow at Craig. "Like c-coding?"

"Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure though."

"Sounds like a lot of pressure."

"Most jobs are. What about you? Do you want to be a big-time barista in the city someday?" Craig teased.

Tweek snorted. " _Clearly_ ," he mumbled sarcastically. "No. I want to do something where I don't have to deal with a ton of people."

"That makes sense," Craig said.

"Being a scribe could be cool. I can t-type pretty fast. You know, for like, doctors or the government or something. That doesn't sound too hard - you just sit there and type."

"Huh. I didn't know that was a thing."

"Yeah." Tweek rubbed his temples with his knuckles. "I don't like to think about it too much. Thinking about the future makes my head spin."

"Do you want to get out of South Park?" Craig pressed.

"I don't think it's as b-bad as everyone makes it out to be," he answered honestly.

"I do. This place sucks." Craig snuffed his cigarette out against one of the plastic railings, then pushed the butt of his cigarette through one of the holes in the platform. Tweek didn't try to talk Craig out of his statement - he'd decided a long time ago that it wasn't his place to try to change Craig's mind about the whole thing. Tweek figured he'd probably hold the same sentiment if his parents acted anything like Craig's did.

"It's getting late," Craig said after their comfortable silence started to stagnate. "Did you want to head back?"

"Yeah."

Craig offered to carry their bag of snacks the rest of the way to Tweek's house. He didn't protest Craig's offer - he was just looking forward to being in his room again, warm and wrapped in blankets.

When they arrived at Tweek's house his parents were home. Tweek was greeted warmly when he made his way inside, and his mom made her way over to give Craig a hug. He accepted awkwardly as he wiped the snow from his boots on the welcome mat.

"We tried to call to see if you'd eaten yet," his mom said, casting the convenience store purchases with some apprehension.

"Just went out for some snacks, mom," Tweek said sheepishly. "C-Craig made me dinner."

"Oh?" She sent Craig a look of approval and Tweek regretted mentioning it.

"Yeah," Craig cut in. "We're gonna go watch a movie or something," he continued as an excuse to get them out of the living room. Tweek was grateful for Craig's nonchalant avoidance.

"Okay, you boys be good," his dad said from the couch. Tweek's mom squeezed his arm with a smile before joining his dad to continue watching the television.

Tweek waved his dad off as he turned toward the stairs, trying to fight the rising color in his face. Craig chuckled at his side.

"Be good, my ass," he murmured under his breath.

Tweek rolled his eyes as they made it back to the safety of his bedroom. He realized suddenly how worn out he felt and immediately climbed into his bed after shedding the jacket and sweater into a heap on his floor. Tweek had to be careful not to knock over any of the plates that were strewn about his bed. He found himself picking at the room-temperature macaroni while Craig fished out the green tea and cookies from the bag.

"Thanks."

"Have you played any more of PT yet?" Craig asked as he scanned the small entertainment system at the foot of Tweek's bed.

"No," Tweek answered after a long swig from the tea bottle. "Why would you even ask that? That g-game is way too stressful."

Craig chuckled. "Well, you downloaded it."

"Yeah. So I could sell my Playstation in a few years when it's worth a m-metric fuck ton of money," Tweek explained through a mouthful of cookies.

"You really think it's going to be worth that much?"

Tweek shrugged. "They're already going for like, five hundred bucks apiece online."

"Oh." Craig glanced at the Playstation and back to Tweek. "Well, don't you think you should at least play it?"

He shook his head erratically.

"Can I play it then?" Craig asked. "I lost my copy when I connected to the Internet."

"Sure."

"Sweet." Craig set to work collecting the controller and starting the system, then settled in next to Tweek. He stole a handful of cookies and Tweek stuck his tongue out at him. "Oh, wait. I want to play with the lights off."

"Your funeral," Tweek lamented as he pulled out his phone. "If you're going to play though, I'm not gonna watch. That shit's g-gonna give me nightmares for weeks."

"That's fair. I can play it another time if you want to like, actually watch a movie or something."

"No, it's fine," Tweek insisted. He curled up next to Craig's side as a sign of reassurance and started to thumb through some articles online about building figure armies. Occasionally Craig jumped in surprise under him while playing the game, causing Tweek to startle and nearly drop his phone.

They both jumped when a knock came at the door.

"Are you decent?" his mom asked from the other side.

Tweek pulled away from Craig a bit. "Yeah, why?"

She poked her head into the bedroom, squinting to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Your father and I are going to sleep. I wanted to remind you not to stay up too late."

"Okay. Thanks," Tweek said, a little put off at the thought that his mom was probably just being nosey.

"Thanks, Mrs. Tweak."

"Is Craig going to be spending the night?" she asked.

"Probably not," Craig answered behind a yawn. "I have to get up for work tomorrow too."

"Okay. Make good choices, then." She shut the door and Tweek sighed, looking up at Craig.

He was grinning down at Tweek innocently. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking that playing this before bed probably isn't such a good idea," Craig recovered, setting the controller aside.

"I think you're onto something there."

They were both bathed in the blue light from the start-up screen on the television. "Whatcha reading?"

"Nothing terribly interesting," Tweek admitted as he put his phone away.

"Did you have fun today?" Craig asked.

"Yeah."

"I told you that going for a walk would be a good idea."

Tweek regarded him coolly. "You're r-right, as usual."

Craig shook his head. "You don't have to put it like that."

"It was a compliment."

Craig curled his fingers around Tweek's forearm. "Did you want me to spend the night?"

Tweek studied Craig's expression before answering. "I-If you want to."

"I do," Craig said honestly as he rubbed the pad of his thumb against the small hairs on Tweek's arm. "But I don't want to keep you up all night."

"You won't," Tweek put in, resituating himself and withdrawing his arm from Craig's grasp. He wasn't so sure he believed the words himself.

"You sure?"

Tweek frowned. "Don't you have to go home and get your stuff for tomorrow?"

"I can wear this," Craig said, gesturing to the clothes he was already wearing.

"Gross." Tweek wrinkled his nose.

"You can't tell me you've never worn the same thing two days in a row," Craig defended.

"Not as often as you do it."

"Ouch, right to my ego," Craig drawled, pressing his hands over his heart and falling to the side against the pillows.

Tweek chuckled at the antics. "Do you want me to set an alarm f-for you?"

"Naw. I can do it on my phone. Do you have a spare charger?"

Tweek twisted to reach the cord he had on the side of his bed and handed it to Craig.

"We can put on a movie until we fall asleep," Craig offered. His face was lit up by his phone as he thumbed at the screen.

"Sure."

Craig got up to switch the television over, then started to strip. Tweek watched Craig pull his shirt off and remove his pants, leaving the items in a crumpled pile in the middle of his floor. When the show was done, Tweek got up and padded to the bathroom. When he came back, Craig was under the covers, arm slung across his face. Tweek threw his pants into the pile of laundry adorning his chair and climbed over Craig in his T-shirt and underwear.

"Tomorrow's gonna suck," Craig mumbled.

"Why?"

"Because it's already like, ten."

"You bought those energy drinks," Tweek offered as he got comfortable.

"Oh yeah." Craig brightened up, turning on his side to face Tweek. "You can have one too if you want."

"No. Coffee is fine. I open tomorrow, so it's n-not that big of a deal."

"Well, if you change your mind-"

"I won't," Tweek assured.

"Mmkay." Craig pulled Tweek close to him and buried his nose into the crook of Tweek's neck. Tweek squirmed under the sudden ticklish contact. "You smell nice."

"Th-Thanks?"

"Like laundry sauce," Craig elaborated.

"Like what?"

"Detergent," Craig corrected.

Tweek laughed. "You smell like…" Tweek leaned in close to sniff at Craig's collar. He stayed like that a few moments longer than he needed to, deciding to press his forehead against Craig's chest. "Like ditch weed and cheap cigarettes."

It was Craig's turn to chuckle. "As long as you like it, I wouldn't have it any other way," he said as his fingers made their way up the back of Tweek's shirt. Tweek groaned appreciatively into Craig's shoulder when he started to massage his lower back.

"I think it's hot when you make noises like that," Craig whispered.

Tweek spluttered. "Way to ruin a good moment, asshole."

"Well, it's true," Craig insisted, still plying the muscles along Tweek's back. Tweek brought his own hands up to explore the gentle curve at Craig's waist - the skin was warm beneath his fingers, and Tweek let his fingers drag along Craig's body with his eyes closed. Tweek made a map in his head of each wiry, firm muscle, each dark hair and subtle blemish in Craig's flesh. He liked the warm suppleness of Craig's skin. It was soft, for the most part, save for Craig's calloused hands.

Craig seemed to enjoy the attention, arching into Tweek's hesitant touches, and Tweek used that to find the courage to press a kiss to the underside of Craig's jaw. Craig hadn't shaved in a few days - Tweek gleaned that from the rough stubble in the shadow of Craig's jaw. It chafed roughly against Tweek's lips, so he drew his lips instead across Craig's Adam's apple to the taut muscles paralleling his neck. Tweek hoped that the ghosted breath was almost as unbearable for Craig as it had been for Tweek.

Craig let out a heavy breath, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, then pulled Tweek against his chest.

"You're all sticky," Tweek protested.

"That's on you, dude."

Tweek slipped his index finger into the elastic waistband of Craig's boxers and ran the pad of his finger along the soft flesh. "That's fair."

Craig nestled his nose into Tweek's hair - he could feel the warm breath on his scalp while he traced Craig's hemline gently. He decided that he liked this. It was something that Tweek hoped he could get used to. Touching people wasn't exactly something he had much practice with, and Tweek silently hoped that Craig didn't mind his shy and tentative movements. He'd already put up with Tweek's timid reciprocation for this long. Tweek brushed his fingers into the springy hair below Craig's navel.

"C-Can I…?"

"Hm?" Craig asked sleepily.

Tweek hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband at Craig's hips and nudged the fabric down, heart thrumming in his ears. Craig brought his leg around Tweek's side and helped remove his boxers. "Can you what?" Craig asked again.

After a difficult gulp of air, Tweek ran his fingers up Craig's erection, thankful that the darkness in the room didn't betray his uncertainty.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

As the days progressed, the Klonopin seemed to be doing its job. At least, Tweek hoped it was. It could have just as easily been the weed that Craig was pushing on him every day. His brain still raced uncomfortably fast but Tweek hadn't found himself lying awake for hours as he tried to get to sleep, and his movements weren't marked as often with a jerky and inconsistent urgency. It wasn't that Tweek really minded the smoking sessions after school - hell, he'd been able to fall asleep for the first time in what felt like months with a full belly - but Craig had taken to checking up on him every few hours.

He had started to find the attention to be tedious, especially when his parents hovered around him in the few hours that they were all home together. Tweek found himself sneaking snacks instead of sitting down with them for the infrequent family dinners they shared. It wasn't that he disliked their company, Tweek had reasoned with himself. Quite the contrary. He just found that it was easier to process the raw and singular emotions that he was unaccustomed to dealing with when he was on his own.

Still, Craig had pressed him through the early stages of their week together on whether or not he was eating lunch every day. Tweek had tried to reassure Craig that he was fine. He was eating plenty and it wasn't something to be concerned about. But after the third time it was brought up in so many days, Tweek found himself getting irritated.

"Can you _please_ stop asking me that?" Tweek grumbled, book bag slung across his shoulders in the cold afternoon air outside the school.

"I'm really not trying to bug you," Craig explained for the hundredth time. "I just want to make sure you're doing okay."

Tweek let out a defeated sigh. "You are, though. And I am."

He supposed that he should find it endearing, the fact that Craig was so caught up in what Tweek was feeling, but Tweek couldn't get past the idea that it felt like Craig didn't trust him.

"You're just so skinny now, and I want to make sure that-"

"Craig, stop. Please," he begged quietly, stalling at the school's front landing. Every time Craig brought it up, Tweek was inundated with images of Craig with his head in Tweek's crotch, stretched out on his bed, alabaster bones jutting out at awkward angles. Tweek opened his eyes and exhaled heavily through a shiver.

"Do you want some more bud to take home?" Craig continued.

"No. It's fine."

"Well, let me know when you run out, because I know that it helps-"

" _Craig_ ," Tweek hissed, cutting him off again. Token and Clyde were making their way over to them, grinning. Tweek was silently thankful of their presence because he didn't think Craig would stop if they hadn't shown up.

"Hey, what's going on?" Clyde asked, landing a sound pat to Craig's back.

"Not much. Hey - do you have those notes for Geometry?"

"Yeah. I'll text you pictures. The struggle is real with that test tomorrow," Clyde laughed.

Tweek adjusted his bag and stepped out to cross the pick-up lane toward the parking lot, the other three in tow.

"Did you want to go to the football game on Friday?"

"I was thinking about it."

Token looked up from his phone when they reached Craig's car. "Dude, it's a rematch against Beaverton. They kicked our asses last year at homecoming. We lost thirty-six to eight. You gotta go." Clyde nodded in assent.

"I don't have anything else going on," Craig admitted as they piled into the car. He turned his attention to Tweek in the passenger seat. "Unless you wanted to do anything?"

Tweek shrugged.

"Do you want to come too?"

 _Not particularly_ , was what Tweek wanted to say, but he settled with a half-hearted, "I have t-to check my schedule."

That seemed good enough for Craig as they pulled out of the parking lot. "If Beaverton wins, they're throwing a party for both teams. I'm not sure what the plan is if we win, though," Token elaborated. "I was going to ask Cartman tomorrow."

"I'm not sure who I'm supposed to be rooting for then," Craig said.

"Yeah, I mean, the Beavers can throw some kick-ass parties. And they're not called the Beavers for nothi-i-ing," Clyde hummed happily from the backseat.

"Dude, gross."

A chorus of snickering broke out in the car. Tweek rolled his lower lip between his teeth thinking that spending his Friday night sitting outside in the cold, pretending he was interested in a bunch of assholes scuffling around in a frozen field over a ball, wasn't the best date he'd been invited on. He knew he'd end up getting involved if Craig had anything to say in the matter.

Craig dropped him off first at the coffee shop. Tweek gave an unenthusiastic wave as his goodbye and turned to head into work. Both his parents were chatting behind the counter with some parents of kids in town that Tweek barely knew. It was busier than usual with the dusting of fresh, heavy snow outside, so he quickly shrugged into his apron and joined them behind the counter.

"How was school?" his mom cooed when she finished up with a customer.

"Good," Tweek answered absently, gathering a tray of dishes to bring into the back. "I have a test in Geometry tomorrow."

"Oh, your father is pretty good at math. If you need any help, I'm sure he could take a look."

"I think it'll be f-fine. Thanks, though."

He disappeared into the back and ran the dishes through the wash. His dad had started to unload a pallet of fresh supplies and greeted Tweek with a smile. He made his way over to help organize the inventory.

"So, you have anything fun planned this weekend?" his dad asked.

"No, not really," Tweek admitted. "Probably the football game on Friday." As much as he didn't want to go.

"Oh, the joys of high school football," his dad mused. He launched into a one-sided conversation about his time on the football team when he was in high school. Tweek had heard the stories a dozen times over, so the practiced nodding and _uh-huh_ 's came automatically.

"What about you? Do you and mom have anything planned?" Tweek asked to change the subject.

"Oh, well, we were thinking about checking out that new Italian restaurant downtown on Saturday. You know how much your mom likes Group-On."

"Sounds nice."

"How's Craig doing?"

"Fine."

"We were wondering if you wanted to come too," his dad continued, slicing open a cardboard box of espresso bean bags. "You can bring Craig if you want."

"Okay. I'll ask him," Tweek answered. He pulled out the tray of mugs and brought them back out front. His mom was in the process of removing her apron.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked as Tweek arranged the dishes behind the counter. His mom meant the medication, Tweek was sure, and he thought his brain was going to short-circuit if he was asked about it one more time.

"I'm fine, mom. Thanks."

"Just wanted to make sure. Your dad and I are going to take off here soon - it might be a busy night. You can call us if you need any help. Did you want anything in particular for dinner?"

Tweek poured himself a cup of coffee and stirred a small amount of cream into the cup. "Whatever is fine with m-me."

"Okay. Text me if you decide on anything. We want to make sure that you're getting enough to eat," she explained.

Tweek scrunched his nose up in irritation as she turned her back to him, pushing the swinging door open to the back to get his dad's attention. They left after that and Tweek was left to his own devices. It was refreshing to be alone with his thoughts. Well, mostly alone, save for the customers working at their laptops in the lobby nursing their lattes. Tweek lamented the fact that he usually felt just the opposite - when his parents were around, he was usually distracted from whatever was bothering him. The fact that he didn't want them hanging around him anymore had started to bother him instead.

The night passed easily. He found himself able to crack a textbook behind the counter, which was a nice surprise. It wasn't something that he'd been able to accomplish before with the idle chatter of the patrons in the background, but he ran through a few chapters of his Geometry book and was able to review his quizzes from the previous two weeks without incident.

He walked home after closing up shop and retreated to his room, exhausted. His mom knocked at the door not long after.

"We ordered pizza," she announced while brandishing a plate with two slices of greasy pizza toward him. "I brought you a couple slices in case you were hungry."

"Thanks." Tweek took the plate from her and set the pizza aside on his bed next to his book bag.

"Did you want to come downstairs? Your dad and I are watching that new show with the dragons," she offered.

"No, thanks. I have a lot of homework to do," Tweek answered. It was mostly true, anyway, despite the work he'd done at the shop.

"Okay," she answered, still hanging around in his doorway.

"Is there something wrong?" Tweek asked, eyeing her curiously.

His mom feigned surprise. "Oh, nothing's wrong, hun. We just want to make sure that you're adjusting well with the new medication and all. You've been awfully quiet lately."

Tweek set his jaw for a moment. He could feel the teeth scraping together echoing in his brain. "Isn't that what it's supposed to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"The pills. Wasn't that the goal? To make me not so… crazy all the time?"

His mom looked taken aback. "No one said that you were crazy, Tweek," she said slowly. "We just miss you, that's all."

Tweek ran his hands through his hair and kept his eyes trained on the little pieces of plastic that he'd been meaning to vacuum up off the floor of his room. "Mom, can I just be alone for a little while?"

"Make sure you eat your dinner," she said softly, taking one last look at Tweek before letting the door click closed behind her.

Tweek pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and scrubbed.

Craig picked him up on Friday. Tweek had made sure to bring a scarf, a hat, his gloves, and an extra sweatshirt along with his thermos full of coffee. Token and Clyde were with Craig in the car, already occupying the back seat and chattering excitedly to each other. Tweek settled into his familiar place in the passenger side, trying to convince himself over and over again that the evening ahead of them wasn't going to be a frigid let-down.

"I don't think the Beavers stand a chance tonight, actually," Clyde reasoned loudly.

"Dude, they kicked our asses last year. They're gonna do it again."

"I was chatting with Cartman. Their best players graduated last year, and I don't think they played a single junior varsity player against us last year. So yeah, I do think we're gonna get them back."

"Hey, as long as they don't put Cartman on that field, I think we got a chance," Craig shot in behind a smirk.

Tweek rested his chin in his hand and watched the street lights glittering off the snow as they drove to the stadium, allowing the imagery and the soft, melancholy hip-hop on the radio to drown out the banter in the car.

It was a circus when they arrived. Tweek hadn't anticipated so many people being at the game, and he felt the familiar twist of anxiety hit his gut full force. Craig paid for both their tickets at the booth outside the gate as Tweek wrapped his scarf tighter around his face. They were about to step through the entrance toward the bustling students milling around the bleachers, but the ticket man stopped them.

"Hey, kid. You can't bring that in there."

Tweek looked down at his thermos. "It's just coffee," he insisted.

"Only see-through containers are allowed," the ticket man stated boredly.

Tweek groaned. "What d-do you expect me to do? Bring coffee in a plastic water bottle or something?"

The gatekeeper didn't look enthused at Tweek's arguing. Craig rounded back on them with concern on his face.

"Smell it, then," Tweek hissed, thrusting the thermos toward the man behind the plexiglass wall. "I'm not trying to sneak alcohol into a high school football game."

"Those are the rules, kid."

Craig reached out to take Tweek's arm, but he pulled away from the touch, still determined to dispute the claim. "No. That's stupid."

"Just dump it out. They sell coffee inside."

Tweek scoffed, offended at the idea. Craig was trying to get him away from the guy - they were holding up the line.

"I'll buy you some more coffee," Craig offered hurriedly.

"Fuck that," Tweek carped, skirting around the booth. He power-walked into a throng of students with Craig hustling behind him to keep up.

"Dude, that guy is pissed," Craig said when they slowed.

"I don't care," Tweek answered bitterly.

Craig looked confused for a moment but shrugged Tweek's actions off as they came to the end of the bleachers. "Come on, the guys are sitting in the student section."

Tweek followed Craig into the stands, keeping his thermos pressed tightly to his chest in case anyone else tried to stop him for it. They didn't. Token and Clyde were sitting with Kyle, Stan, Kenny, and a few others, all squished close together toward the top of the section. Most of the students were adorned in sweatshirts and hats that brandished their school name and colors proudly. Tweek slid into the bleachers awkwardly and ended up pressed against Craig's side, Kyle to his immediate right, and a horde of laughing teenagers to both his front and back. He shrank a bit in his spot from the commotion.

The game opened with the marching band. They ran onto the field playing their school song enthusiastically, and Tweek decided that he rather liked their flashy uniforms and brassy music. Halfway through the fight song, everyone stood up, and Tweek had to stand on the bleacher seats to see over everyone else as the cheerleaders assembled on the field with the band.

Tweek was content about his forward thinking in bringing a spare sweatshirt because he could lay it out over the freezing metal benches. It kept him much warmer when he finally got to sit down again. Craig disappeared immediately after he got situated and came back with two hotdogs, handing one off to Tweek.

"Thanks."

He chewed the over-cooked hotdog as the kickoff began. Tweek had caught glimpses of football on the television in the living room when his dad watched it on an occasional Sunday, but he hadn't really been able to pick out the rules. He was more distracted with Kenny, who was throwing shots back from a flask that he kept hidden away in his parka. Eventually, everyone else noticed when he clumsily got to his feet and made his way down the steps toward the pit to chat with some of the cheerleaders. Tweek thought he recognized a few of them, but he spent the rest of the first half wondering how they weren't freezing to death clad in only their skimpy uniforms and glitter decals.

The first half ended unremarkably aside from Tweek constantly getting jolted to his feet every time the crowd stood up to holler about something. When halftime came around, Tweek followed Craig under the bleachers with the rest of the student section.

"They're only ahead by one touch down. We can still do this."

Kenny came careening toward them after a few moments, eyes wild and grinning. Tweek stepped out of his path and Craig caught his side chuckling.

"The party's in Beaverton tonight!" Kenny shouted. "Even if we miraculously pull a win out of our asses."

"Is it open invitation?" Clyde asked, reaching out to take the flask from Kenny's hands to have a pull of his own.

Kenny shrugged. "The cheerleaders are going, so I'm going too."

Tweek shivered into the cold and crossed his arms across his chest, watching Stan and Kyle high-five each other. Craig fished out a cigarette and nudged Tweek's side with a questioning gaze. Tweek tried to ignore it, not wanting to have to tell Craig that he wasn't interested in going to another party and prolonging the already uncomfortable night.

"Woohoo! Free booze and hooch!" Kenny continued his happy frolic in their circle.

"Like you need anything else to drink tonight," Kyle chided.

Tweek frowned and nursed his coffee, feeling like an outsider looking in on the group. He didn't connect with how everyone was getting wound up over the rest of the night - another night like the party at Eric Cartman's didn't sound like a great use of the rest of his Friday.

Craig snuffed his cigarette out under his boot when the band started playing again, and moved to wrap his arm around Tweek's waist as they made their way back to the bleachers.

"Are you having fun?" he asked in earnest.

"Not particularly," Tweek answered honestly.

"Is there anything that I can do to change that?"

Tweek shrugged, staring at the ground as they crossed the tartop. Craig gave his side a reassuring squeeze, but all it served to do was make Tweek feel even more claustrophobic in the surrounding group of students. "I brought some Fireball if you want to warm up a little."

"No, thanks."

"Okay."

They sat down again and Tweek took out his phone to occupy himself while Craig laughed along with everyone else.

"Hey, Craig. Do you think you could give me a ride to that party?" Clyde asked. Token turned his attention toward them as well.

"My car only seats five," Stan admitted, ticking off the people in front of him on gloved fingers. "We can all go if we both drive."

"Sure," Craig answered.

Tweek sucked down a breath and summoned the courage to prod Craig's side.

"What's up?"

"I don't r-really want to go," he admitted quietly.

"I mean, I can drop you off at home if you want," Craig said simply. "It sounds like a lot of fun though. You could use a night out."

Tweek tapped his fingers in rapid succession on his metal thermos, not giving Craig an immediate answer. Craig soon turned his attention elsewhere, back to the conversations with the rest of their group and cheering when their team regained control of the ball. Tweek wasn't sure why that bothered him so much.

"I have to use the bathroom," Tweek said to excuse himself from the cheering group.

"Do you want me to come with?" Craig offered.

"No. It's fine."

Token perked up. "I'll go. I have to go too." He got to his feet and scooted past the other boys' knees to follow Tweek down the bleachers to the mostly empty tartop.

"Close game so far," Token mused as they neared the restrooms together. "I guess Clyde was wrong."

Tweek made a noise in agreement as they got in line for the toilets.

"I haven't been up to Beaverton in a while. Sounds like it's gonna get pretty crazy. I'm not sure how they're planning to top Cartman's party, but I heard they were talking some smack. Are you excited?"

"Um." Tweek wrapped his arms around his middle, half to keep himself warm, and half to stifle the feeling that he was going to throw up.

"Hey, you okay, dude?" Token asked, face screwing up in concern.

" _Yes_ ," Tweek hissed automatically. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

Token raised his hands and took a half-step backward, eyebrows furrowing. "Whoa, man. I'm just trying to be a friend, that's all."

Tweek rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just t-tired."

"It's cool."

Token relaxed and Tweek found the ensuing silence to be more frustrating than Token's idle chatter. He supposed he felt bad about that. When Tweek finished up his business, he waited for Token outside the small building so they could walk back to the bleachers together.

The game eventually wrapped up with grumbles and a chorus of booing from the audience - South Park had lost by six points. Tweek wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a lot. Craig helped him to his feet and they joined the rest of the crowd exiting the stadium.

"Are you sure you want to head home?" Craig asked.

Tweek wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to respond. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to be alone with himself and recharge. On the other, he knew that he'd be upset with himself later in the night for not gathering the energy to go out and _have fun_. Or at least, that was how Craig had pedaled the outcome of the rest of their evening.

"Kinda," Tweek said.

"I don't have to go if you would rather hang out instead," Craig offered gently.

"You already t-told Clyde and Token that you would drive them."

Craig shrugged, catching Tweek's eye. "They can find their own way."

"No. I don't care if you go if that's what you want to do."

"I'm not going to have any fun if I'm worried about you, though," Craig put in.

"Why would you be worried about me?" Tweek asked sharply.

Craig stared at Tweek for a moment at his attitude. "You've been acting weird all week."

"No, I haven't," Tweek shot back.

"Um, yeah. You have."

Tweek took a swig from his lukewarm coffee, avoiding Craig's gaze for as long as he could take it.

"I talked to your parents," Craig volunteered pointedly.

Tweek craned his neck to look at Craig, frowning. "What?"

"On Wednesday. When you were off. I went in and talked with your dad at the shop."

"Why?" Tweek demanded.

Craig looked like a deer in the headlights and Tweek thought he probably regretted mentioning the topic. "Because I'm worried about you, Tweek. You're different and-"

"Isn't that the fucking point?" Tweek seethed.

"What?" It was Craig's turn to eye him warily.

"Pump Tweek full of drugs and pot, g-get him to start drinking, then maybe he won't be such a fucking nutcase," Tweek exclaimed a little louder than he had intended.

"What are you talking about?" Craig asked hushedly, rounding on Tweek so he couldn't ignore Craig's prying eyes anymore.

"What did you tell my parents, Craig?" Tweek confronted angrily.

"N-Nothing, Tweek. Nothing that they didn't already know. Just that you've been antisocial these past few days, and with you starting, well… you know. And that you haven't been eating much at-"

"So that's why they're been breathing down my neck every ten s-seconds, then. Thanks, Craig, for that," Tweek bristled. The students were starting to thin around them and the few that remained were starting to stare.

"Dude."

"No. No, don't _dude_ me. You don't get it." Tweek started off toward the parking lot, fists balled in his pockets. Token and Clyde caught sight of them and Craig waved them off to wait by the gate before hurrying off behind Tweek.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Why are you getting so angry with me?" Craig called after him, exasperated.

"Yes, you do!" Tweek howled. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. That's why you wanted me to go to K-Kenny's. That's why you want me to go to this party tonight, and-"

"Tweek, stop. Jesus. I'll drive you home, okay? You don't have to go to the party."

They reached Craig's car and Tweek tried the handle. It was locked. Craig fumbled with his keys while Tweek kicked at the snow in irritation. The car started under them and Craig stared at Tweek trying to figure out what was going on.

"I looked up what Klonopin is," Craig said slowly.

"Good for you," Tweek shot off.

Craig shook his head in annoyance. "What are they treating you for?"

"I'm crazy, remember?"

"No, you're not crazy," Craig said quickly, making a grab for his phone which had started to ring. He answered it.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna drive Tweek home really quick. Hang out here for a minute and I'll be back to pick you up."

Craig hung up quickly and let his phone disappear into the center console as he pulled out of the parking space before letting his car warm up. Tweek tried to bore holes in the passenger side window with his eyes.

"You're not crazy," Craig repeated.

Tweek didn't answer the allegation, preferring to stew in silence as they drove while his head pounded. Tweek turned the music down all the way.

"Is that really what you think?" Craig continued to press.

"It's an antipsychotic," Tweek volunteered hoarsely. "So yeah. I fucking do. And so d-does everyone else."

"Nobody thinks that," Craig insisted. "Where is all of this coming from?"

"Why else would you be going around my back to talk to my parents about what's going on in my head?" Tweek demanded.

"Because you won't talk to me about it!" Craig answered sharply. "I've tried, Tweek. You get pissed off with me any time I try to ask you what's going on. Listen to yourself - you're not being fair right now."

"Oh, I'm not being fair?" Tweek repeated, rounding on Craig. "I g-go with you wherever you want, whenever you want. Nevermind what I want to do."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Craig bellowed. "The last time we hung out, all we did was sit in your room all night. That's all you ever want to do, Tweek."

"What the hell is so wrong with that?"

Craig shook his head in disbelief. Tweek could see the whites of his knuckles gripping the steering wheel as they rolled through a stop sign.

"You know what, Tweek? I'm so sick of always having to fucking pry. You don't have to tell me every little detail about what's going on, but Jesus Christ, dude. Show a little fucking compassion once in awhile. You're not the only person on the planet dealing with bullshit right now."

Tweek was taken aback by Craig's outburst as they pulled up to his driveway. His head was reeling with anger and hurt, and a little of everything in between. Craig was the one encroaching on territory that Tweek wasn't exactly comfortable with - it wasn't the other way around. Tweek struggled with the door handle in frustration when they finally came to a stop.

"You don't have anything else to say to me?" Craig asked expectantly, a biting edge in his tone.

"Yeah. I'm not your goddamn fucktoy!" Tweek shouted as he stumbled out into the snow. "Go find someone else to get d-drunk and fuck with their head!"

He slammed Craig's door shut and almost slipped on a patch of ice hurrying up the driveway to his house. Tweek flew through his front door and his parents tried to get his attention as he trudged up the stairs to his room. He could still see Craig idling outside on the curb when he got there, so Tweek shut his curtains, almost pulling the curtain rod down in the process.

Tweek was a little worried - hell, he half expected - that Craig was going to get out of his car and corner him in his room. He wondered how his parents would deal with that as he paced back and forth, fisting handfuls of his hair with twitchy fingers. Tweek wasn't so sure he _didn't_ want Craig to do that. The more time that passed, the more Tweek wanted to know exactly what was going through Craig's mind, but the opportunity to ask him didn't come. Tweek peered out at the street behind his curtain. Craig's car was gone.

He checked his phone after that. Nothing.

Tweek turned his phone off for good measure and threw it at the growing pile of laundry on his chair, then stood in silence save for his heavy breathing. A soft knock at the door tore him out of the trance.

"Is everything okay, sweetie?" It was his mom. Tweek swallowed thickly, not wanting to have to talk with her.

"Yeah, mom," Tweek lied. His voice cracked and gave him away. He watched the door handle turn as his mom poked her head inside the room.

"You're home early. Did we win?"

"No. We lost," Tweek answered plainly.

"Oh, that's too bad. Did you have fun?"

"Sure," Tweek said. He rubbed at his arm and glared at the ground as his mom stepped into the room.

"That doesn't sound very convincing," she said slowly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tweek sighed and ran his hands over his face to hide his flushed and angry expression. "Not right now. Maybe t-tomorrow."

"Okay." His mom hesitated. "Did you and Craig… have a fight?"

" _Not right now, mom_ ," Tweek repeated. "I just need to think for a little while."

"I'm here for you if you need it," she said. Tweek tried to ignore the somber concern in her voice and expression until she closed the door.

Tweek stood like that for a while and found himself unable to focus on anything in particular. He tried running over the fight in his head, but all that came to mind was Craig's frustrated face and the fact that Tweek couldn't piece together a coherent recollection of the exchange. Tweek wrapped his arms around himself and he doubled over, a sob wracking his body.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Tweek left his phone at home when he went to work on Saturday. He felt bleary-eyed and nauseous having to pull himself out of bed so early and settled on picking apart a blueberry muffin from behind the counter for breakfast. It hadn't been a conscious decision to leave his phone at home - at least, Tweek didn't think so - but there was a certain degree of hesitation when he'd packed his book bag to bring with him to the coffee shop, perhaps stemming from the fear of what would lay in wait for him on the screen.

He remembered going to bed angry. The fight he'd had with Craig felt surreal against the offensive morning sunlight streaming in through the shop windows. Tweek wasn't entirely sure what had really happened between him and Craig in the ensuing hours that had passed after he'd tumbled out of the car and marched up to his room - he wasn't sure that he really wanted to know at that point.

Every inch of the lobby, counter, and back room was cleaned in Tweek's attempt to distract himself from thinking about it too hard. Twice. His dad came in around three and Tweek was quick to head home, not wanting to sit through another one of his dad's infamous and anecdotal lectures that usually failed to hit home with a point.

The rest of his afternoon was spent in the kitchen, helping his mom clean after having made a batch of chocolate cookies. He was sure that she had done it on his behalf - and it was an accurate assumption on her part as to the quickest way to Tweek's heart. He'd decimated two of the still-cooling cookies before his mom, jokingly, insisted that he leave some for the rest of the family. Tweek snuck another after that, but it didn't stave off the sinking feeling in his gut and the itching compulsion to dive into the contents of his phone. The itch went unscratched, however, because the fear that Tweek had broken something unfixable with Craig was too much of a burden to wrestle with.

"Can I stay home tonight, mom?" Tweek asked as he collected two more cookies onto a plate to shuttle up to his room.

She sent him a doleful gaze but nodded nonetheless. "Did you want us to bring you home something to eat?"

"No, that's okay."

"There's some leftover soup in the fridge when you get hungry," his mom offered, turning away to start the dishwasher.

Tweek knew she was resisting the urge to ask him for details from the previous night. He was thankful for that because he wasn't so sure that he could explain it if she asked. "Thanks, mom. I'm gonna go upstairs."

"Okay. Make sure you get your homework done."

He climbed into bed after that. Tweek wasn't so sure he was thrilled to be alone with only his own head to keep him company, so he turned his attention to thumbing through the pages of _Citadel_ magazines, the local rock'n'roll station playing softly against the setting sun. His mom asked him if he was sure that he didn't want to get out of the house and try the new restaurant with them, but Tweek had insisted that he wasn't hungry and just wanted to relax.

His Sunday was spent much the same way, except he couldn't distract himself with work for the better part of his day. Instead, he woke up late and spent his time staring at the untouched figurines on his desk, willing himself to get started on the paint job he'd had planned for the last several weeks. He tried a few times, but the effort ended with his shaking fingers getting super-glued to the pieces, then to each other. Eventually, he tossed a half-assembled knight into a pile of decorative terrain and stewed in his own frustration in silence.

For the most part, Tweek's homework went ignored for the weekend. It felt good. Usually his downtime was marked with a great deal of anxiety about meeting deadlines. Tweek often went as far as finishing his assignments the moment that they were given to him on the off chance that he would potentially forget to do it later on. No such compulsion bothered him as he laid in bed catching up on shows he'd missed over the last several weeks.

When ten o'clock rolled around and Tweek was out of ways to distract his wandering mind, he finally let the curiosity get the better of him. He plugged his phone into the wall, stomach tied in knots, and waited for it to light up when it gained enough battery. He watched the applications load up.

He didn't have any new messages.

Tweek clicked on Craig's name in his contacts and reread over the last conversation that they'd had, then refreshed the application to see if anything would change.

Nothing.

He did it again.

Tweek groaned and let his phone slip out of his hands, clattering against the wall as it fell to the carpet. He'd really fucked this up. Tweek scrubbed at his face in an attempt to qualm the growing uneasiness in his belly. The thought of running into Craig at school and having to discuss what had happened in front of his peers filled him with a sense of dread. But it wasn't like he was the only one in the wrong for what had happened. Tweek knew that. He wanted Craig to know that, if he didn't already. But he wasn't going to be the first person to reach out about it.

Somehow, the silence was more heart wrenching than any distasteful messages that Craig could have sent. Tweek tossed around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable, but the motions only served to stoke the indignation that was slowly starting to replace his despondency.

He fell asleep intent on riding the silence out until Craig caved.

* * *

It didn't matter how much or how little sleep he got, Tweek always woke up feeling like his head was in a fishbowl. He took his pill in his sleepy state and stumbled toward his bathroom, letting the shower warm his aching muscles. Tweek thought he must have slept in an odd position the night before as he slipped outside, deciding that he'd walk to school, hair still damp, hoping to catch a cold so he could sleep in for the rest of the week.

His classes passed slowly. Tweek muddled through a quiz that he wasn't prepared for and drew lazy pictures in the margins of the papers his teachers dutifully handed out. He tried to convince himself that he could borrow somebody's notes and catch up when he wasn't feeling so out of it. Craig was nowhere to be seen at lunch, even when he hung back a few minutes to try to catch him in the next period.

When the second day went by, Tweek had the sneaking suspicion that Craig was actively avoiding him. He knew that his phone wasn't malfunctioning because he'd received a few texts from his parents asking him to take care of some inventory numbers at work. Tweek had half a mind to just throw the expensive cell phone into the garbage to stop the compulsive checking and rechecking of the screen, but he didn't want to burden his parents with his recklessness. He decided, against his better judgement, that he would reach out before his shift.

Tweek: Are was really going to do this?

He tucked his phone into his book bag after turning it on silent mode, so he wouldn't be bothered by the response at work, but also so Tweek would have something to look forward to after he finished his shift. Tweek cringed at how pathetic that sounded - even to him - and mechanically went through the rest of his night serving coffee and grinding espresso beans.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't receive a text from Craig.

Tweek stared at his phone in disappointment. A small part of him wanted to cry, but the rest of him was angry. He sat for a while in an empty booth of the closed shop wondering what he was supposed to do with himself at this point. Was he supposed to call? To go over to Craig's house and demand that Craig answer him? Was Tweek supposed to just forget about everything and move on? None of those options were comfortable enough for him, so Tweek cautiously scrolled through his contacts to find someone he could talk to about it. Preferably someone who wouldn't give him too much flack.

Tweek: hey what are you doing right now?

He'd decided, uncharacteristically, that Kenny - regardless of how annoying he was to be around for extended periods of time - had seemed the most vested in his and Craig's relationship.

Kenny: nothin why

Tweek fidgeted in his spot, hesitant to type out his next few words.

Tweek: Can I come over?

Kenny: is this about craig

Kenny: ya

Kenny: okay when will you be here

Tweek sucked down a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been depriving himself of, then tapped out a message to his mom that he was going to a friend's house. And yes, he'd already eaten.

Tweek: I have to walk so like twenty minutes?

Kenny: k

The walk to Kenny's house was frigid. He'd left his hat at home again and briefly wished that Craig was there to lend Tweek his, but he quickly pushed the fleeting thought from his head and continued toward the train yard that grossly bisected South Park. Tweek wasn't exactly sure if he was headed in the right direction, but he eventually found Kenny's house. He stood at the foot of the McCormick's unshoveled driveway for a few moments, trying to figure out exactly what he was doing there, but he forced himself to pull his phone out of its cozy nook in his pocket.

Tweek: I'm here.

Kenny: just come in my parents are passed out

Kenny: I'm downstairs

Tweek made his way through the lawn carefully stepping into the well-worn steps already pressed into the heavy snow. The door was unlocked and the television was on in the living room, but no one was around to watch it. He made his way quietly to the basement door, worried that a single misstep would result in a jump-scare of Hollywood magnitude. The wooden door creaked angrily as Tweek let himself downstairs.

"Why are you always d-down here?" Tweek asked as he rounded the basement. Kenny was splayed out on his futon and looked up boredly from his position. Tweek wasn't so sure what Kenny had been doing down there alone - the television wasn't on and there were notebooks and pens scattered across the balled up blankets.

"My sister wanted her own room," Kenny said simply. "I let her have mine."

"Oh. That's nice of you." Tweek slung his bag off his shoulder and sat down stiffly on the edge of Kenny's futon.

"I don't bite, you know," Kenny said behind a yawn.

Tweek sent him a strange look.

"I mean, unless you want me to."

He scoffed. "Cut it out. I didn't come over here to flirt with you."

"Sheesh," Kenny muttered, rolling to his side and making a grab for his smoking supplies. "What turned you into a royal asshole?"

"What?"

Kenny lit up, then tucked the pipe into the fold of a blanket. "Craig said you went berserk on his ass. I mean, I don't blame you. He's kind of an insufferable prick sometimes. Did he rub off on you or something? Or -" Kenny unsuccessfully tried to curb his laughter. "- rub you off the wrong way?"

"Craig's not a prick," Tweek replied automatically.

"Oh?" Kenny challenged.

Tweek groaned and leaned back on his forearms, willing himself to relax. "I mean, he'd being a prick right now. To me."

"Join the club."

Tweek frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kenny waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. "Ever since your little falling out on Friday, we've got two angry gays angsting up the school."

Tweek smirked a little at that. At least he wasn't the only one suffering, even if he was the only one doing it quietly.

"Craig was a total buzzkill at that party in Beaverton, too. So what's the scoop then?" Kenny asked. He stretched and sat up, gesturing for Tweek to sit closer to him.

"He hasn't talked to me at all since Friday," Tweek admitted as he wrung his hands nervously in his lap.

"Do you want to talk to him?"

"Well, yeah. But I'm not going to go out of my way for it," Tweek said.

Kenny cocked his head to the side, expression skeptical. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Because he's being a g-giant prick," Tweek repeated irritably.

"I feel like I'm missing some information here," Kenny put in. Tweek hadn't come any closer to Kenny, so he stretched out again, this time on his stomach, and stuck the pipe in his mouth before sucking down the smoke greedily. "What exactly happened?"

"We got into a fight at the football game."

"Well, yeah. I'm not stupid. What were you guys fighting about?"

Tweek shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say. Or even how much he was comfortable revealing about the subject.

"Look. I can't help if you're not going to tell me what's going on," Kenny said. Tweek could feel him growing disinterested.

"It's… okay. Um. I'm t-taking these meds. They're new. Well, kinda. They make me feel like, I don't know, different. Not as… on edge," Tweek managed carefully.

"Xanax?" Kenny guessed, perking up.

"You wish," Tweek mumbled.

"I do, but I'll take that as a no."

"So these meds make me feel fuzzy sometimes. I don't like being around a ton of p-people because it makes my head hurt, but that's all Craig ever wants to do," Tweek offered weakly.

"To make your head hurt?"

"No. To go to parties and shit."

Kenny shrugged. "It's not his fault that he's not as introverted as you are."

"It's more than that, though," Tweek continued.

"Go on, then."

"He's always trying to get me to smoke or drink or go out with him."

Kenny had pulled out his phone and was tapping something on the screen while Tweek spoke. "Sounds like a relationship."

"It wasn't like that before though. I f-feel like he's just doing all that to get me to _chill out_. His words, not mine."

"And what's so wrong with that?"

"I don't want to _chill out_ ," Tweek insisted. "I just want to be me. I don't want to feel like I have to do all this just so that he doesn't have to deal with how I am normally."

Kenny was quiet for a moment before setting his phone down. "I probably shouldn't have sold Craig that weed, huh?"

"Why?"

"Well, you're right about one thing at least. He did want to get you smoking. Said something about getting you to relax."

"See? This is the kind of shit that I'm talking about," Tweek fumed.

"I really don't think it's that big of a deal, though. You seemed to like it well enough." Kenny offered the pipe to Tweek. He took it reluctantly, but lit the bowl anyway. "I think he was just trying to help."

"I don't need help."

"Oh, buddy. Listen to yourself. I think you do."

Tweek pursed his lips. "Come on, Kenny."

"Dude, my case still stands."

"Craig got pissed because I told him that he was being a dick. He keeps p-pressuring me into doing shit that I don't want to do," Tweek let out in a rush, trying to refocus the topic of their conversation.

Kenny looked interested at that. "Sexually?"

Tweek hesitated. "I mean… sometimes. But that's not what I'm talking about specifically."

"But you have had sex," Kenny attempted to confirm.

"I'm not sure if that's any of your business." Tweek started to fidget and focused on a distant corner of the dank basement.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Fine. Be a prude."

"How does not wanting to talk to you about Craig and me having sex make me a prude?"

"Well, you came over here to talk to me," Kenny insisted.

"Yeah, but n-not about that!" Tweek made a grab for Kenny's pipe.

"Okay. So he pressures you into having a few drinks and smokes you up for free. I'm not sure exactly what you're so upset about, but have you tried talking to Craig about it?"

"Yes," Tweek hissed. "I've talked to him about it."

"Like, with those specific words."

"I don't know, Kenny." Tweek rubbed at his temples, head bowed close to his knees. He realized that he probably wasn't doing anything constructive talking to Kenny about this and he regretted making the trip.

"Why isn't he talking to you again?" Kenny pressed.

"Because I… probably said some shit that I, um, that I shouldn't have. In the argument."

"And you didn't apologize," Kenny finished for him, turning his attention back to his phone.

"No."

Kenny squinted at Tweek, hinting that the answer was obvious.

"I don't need to apologize. Not yet, at least. Look, Craig was the o-one who started it," Tweek insisted bitterly.

"Ah-huh."

"I do everything that he wants. It isn't enough to keep him from thinking that I'm being _weird_ or _antisocial_ b-because I'm not a raging alcoholic party animal that works one day a week and spends more time with his friends than he does at school!" Tweek rushed out.

Kenny stared at Tweek, clearly bewildered at his ranting. "So… what are they treating you for?"

"Don't try to bring this back to me," Tweek warned.

"Okay, okay. So Craig's an alcoholic party animal whatever. You're not," Kenny repeated slowly. "And you're mad that he wants you to be an alcoholic party animal with him. And you don't want that."

" _Yes_."

"And that's why Craig hasn't talk to you in like, five days."

"Yes. And I yelled at him about it."

Kenny nodded, lips pursed as he mulled the information over. "So I guess my shot at a three-way with you two is over, isn't it?"

"Kenny. Gross."

"Hey, you don't think I'm cute?" Kenny asked. He brought his hands up to his heart and clutched at his T-shirt, feigning that he was hurt.

"No. I don't think anyone is _cute_."

"Really? Not even Craig?"

"That's… That's different," Tweek mumbled.

"Mmkay. But you don't crush on other guys sometimes?" Kenny prodded.

"Why would I need to d-do that?" Tweek asked briskly.

"What about girls?"

"What about them?"

"I'm trying to understand your relationship, Tweek," Kenny said behind a defeated sigh. "Jesus, you're harder to break into than Roswell during Space Week."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just answer the question."

"No," Tweek admitted. "I don't really crush on girls either."

Kenny resituated himself. "Tweek. Have you ever heard of the term asexual?" he asked slowly.

"No," Tweek repeated. "What does that mean?"

"It's like, when a person doesn't feel attracted to anyone," Kenny explained. "Like, romantically. Sexually."

"Um." Tweek thought back to their romp last weekend. His cheeks heated up in the process. He'd liked that, as embarrassing as it was to admit it to himself. "I don't think that's what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Kenny said simply.

"I'm n-not an asexual," Tweek insisted.

"Okay, well. What _is_ wrong with you?"

Tweek sucked down a breath to commit to his next words. "I take Klonopin. It's for panic attacks. And OCD."

"Does Craig know that you're taking it?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah."

"Is it working? The Klonopin?"

"I think so," Tweek said. "But I still feel so fucking crazy all the time."

Kenny climbed over the wad of blankets to Tweek so they were both sitting on the end of the futon. "How so?"

"I d-dunno, Kenny. My brain is all over the place. I just worry about different things."

"What are you worried about?"

"Look, I don't want you to think I'm c-crazy, okay? My parents already think that I am, and I know Craig definitely does now."

Kenny leaned forward so they had to look at each other. "Dude, just spit it out already."

"My doctor thinks that I might turn out all… schizo if I don't take pills to get my head under control."

"Schizo, huh?" Kenny asked, frowning. "There isn't really anything that you can do about that though, right? Like, if it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen."

Tweek sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

"So why be worried about it?"

"Wouldn't you?" Tweek asked. He looked up at Kenny, half-glaring. "This is my brain that we're talking about h-here. I kind of need that."

"Yeah, but like I said, there's nothing you can do about it. So like, worrying about it all the time is probably going to make you crazier," Kenny continued. "Shouldn't you just try to enjoy it while it lasts?"

"See, you'd think that," Tweek started, "but there's the fact that, you know, _I can't do that_. You don't just stop worrying about something like that."

"Does Craig know?"

"No," Tweek said quickly. "No, I haven't told anyone. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't either."

Kenny drew his fingers across his lips and made a twisting motion, like he was pretending to lock his mouth shut. "Lips are sealed, friend."

"Thanks."

"But don't you think that you should, you know, talk to Craig about that? He's your boyfriend, not me."

"I don't really know h-how to have that conversation," Tweek admitted behind a sigh.

"Yeah, I guess. Just tell him like you told me."

Tweek pursed his lips. "I don't… What do you think he's going to do though? When I tell him?"

Kenny shrugged, lifting his hands, unsure. "I don't know, man. Craig's a complex guy. He's got like, four whole emotions."

"That's dumb," Tweek retorted, trying not to laugh.

"But really, though. Think about it. What would you want someone to do if you were in his shoes? Don't you think it's a little unfair to keep that from him?"

"I guess." Tweek pulled his feet up off the concrete floor and crossed them under his ass. He'd turned to face Kenny. "I'm just so tired of being the crazy kid. I just want to be normal."

Kenny scoffed and shook his head. "Dude, nobody's normal," he said.

"Not everybody is crazy," Tweek answered.

Kenny shrugged again and Tweek looked at the notebooks littering the futon, wondering what Kenny was filling them with. "That's true, but you can't be anybody but you, so…"

Tweek picked one of the notebooks up. Kenny didn't try to stop him. "I'll tell him," he relented. "Eventually. If he comes around."

He paged through the first half of the book. It was filled with drawings and notes, but Tweek didn't stay on any page long enough to dwell on the words. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?" Kenny asked. He'd moved much closer to Tweek since he'd started pawing through the notebook.

"No."

"Well, it isn't really Craig's fault, this whole thing," Kenny continued. "It actually sounds like you're the one who got the two of you into this mess. You gotta talk about what you're feeling - you can't just expect people to read your mind."

"Hey, these are really good," Tweek interrupted, staying on a page with a strangely shaped creature. It was shooting a fireball at a person with a shield.

"Thanks," Kenny said, craning his head to look at the page. Tweek stopped himself from leaning away from Kenny - though he was too close for comfort, he tried to tell himself that this was how friends were supposed to interact with each other. "I draw sometimes. When I'm bored or have nothing going on."

"That's c-cool." Tweek turned a few more pages paying closer attention to the drawings on them. Most of the pictures were of the same little genderless soldier staving off beasts or demons with the occasional math problem scrawled in the corner of the page. "Do they mean anything?"

"Not really," Kenny answered easily. He lifted another notebook and turned it over in his hands. "Those are kind of old, though. You can look at these if you want."

Tweek accepted the new booklet and thumbed through its half-filled contents. "These kinda look like Nurgle demons," Tweek said, glancing over a particularly heinous looking insectoid creature. "They're like, these gross chaos demons that-"

"I know what Warhammer is," Kenny cut off with a grin.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do you play?" Tweek asked.

Kenny shook his head. "Too expensive. Can't afford it."

"Oh." Tweek turned the notebook over to Kenny. "I like building the figures. You could come over and b-build something too, if you want. I've got a lot of spare parts. We could do conversions." He hadn't realized what he'd said until he'd already invited Kenny over.

"Sounds like a good time. Your parents aren't going to force feed me coffee grounds, are they?" Kenny asked suspiciously.

"N-No," Tweek stammered.

Kenny laughed and leaned back in toward Tweek, propped up by a slender, gently bruised arm. He held up the pipe again. "Want another hit?"

"Sure." Tweek took the bowl and busied himself with lighting it so he wouldn't have to focus on the fact that their thighs had brushed briefly in the exchange.

"Do you feel better after getting all that off your chest?" Kenny asked after he'd had his turn smoking.

"Yeah. Thanks, Kenny. It's pretty late though - I should probably get going," Tweek managed while he made a grab for his book bag.

"All right." Kenny flopped back onto his nest of blankets and pillows. "Good talk."

Tweek nodded in assent as he made his way to the stairs. "Good talk," he repeated.

The walk back to his house was long and punctuated with the sting of uncertainty and frozen gusts of wind, but Tweek repeated to himself that he hadn't done anything reprehensible. Kenny was being a good friend and Tweek was in need of some innocent help.

* * *

The shaking was back. Not with nearly the same ferocity as it had once been, but the tremors were there. Tweek stared uncomfortably at the jerky handwriting on his geometry homework in the downtime between classes. It didn't help that Craig had left halfway through their biology class and Tweek was stuck wondering what the hell was so important in Craig's life that he'd up and leave the only chance that they would have to talk to one another. Not that Tweek had gone out of his way to sit next to him.

Craig still hadn't texted him back.

Maybe Kenny was right. Maybe Tweek needed to swallow his pride and apologize first. Or maybe he really was going crazy and Craig had used this whole mess as a convenient out while he still could. The last thought was enough to make Tweek fight off a painful dry heave. He made his way quickly to the doors of the school after classes finished in the vain hope that the fresh air would make him feel less dizzy and hollow. It did, to a degree, but Tweek wasn't so sure what he was supposed to do with himself when he got there. Students filed out of the school around him and headed toward the buses and parking lot while he stalled, breaths coming in strained hitches. He needed to sit down.

Tweek sat on one of the stone protrusions that bordered the stairs that led up to the entrance of the school. He kicked his feet, jaw set, hoping to ambush Craig and get this damn thing over with, but he'd had no such luck. He spotted Clyde and Token jogging toward the buses, which had slowly started to pull out of the parking lot, but Craig wasn't with them.

"Hey. You talk to him yet?"

Tweek looked up and found Kenny peering at him boredly, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Stan and Kyle were with him but had kept walking, not realizing that Kenny had stopped to talk. They realized when they reached the bottom of the stairs and turned - Tweek wasn't sure what to make of their expressions, if anything at all.

"No."

Kenny lifted a hand and waved Stan and Kyle on ahead. They complied without hesitation.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Kenny asked. He shuffled his feet and looked toward the last bus that was leaving the parking lot. Tweek wanted to say no, that he just wanted to be left alone to torture himself even further, but he forced himself to get to his feet.

"Yeah. You can come work on some figures. I-If you want," Tweek stammered.

Kenny nodded, head cocked to one side. "Sure. Drive me home after?"

"I don't have a car," Tweek said, "but my mom can."

"S'Good enough for me."

Kenny followed him down the stairs and Tweek was glad of the company. Maybe he would be able to get some work done with another person around to motivate him - either way, it was better than stewing alone in his room with his parents prodding him every chance they got.

"I'm working on an elf army right now," Tweek volunteered as they rounded the block that the school was perched against. "There's a competition in D-Denver in like, a month."

"Cool. So you play Fantasy?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah. I like them both, though. I have some books. You can borrow them if you want, you know, to help you draw."

"Most of them are online," Kenny answered. He craned his head skyward. It had started snowing. Tweek shivered and hugged his arms around himself and tried to ignore the snowflakes that had made their way into Kenny's eyelashes. "I'll take a look though."

"Okay."

Tweek cringed at the silence that fell between them, attempting to figure out exactly what he was doing with himself - he didn't think he'd had anyone over at his house besides Craig in over a year. He decided that he wanted more friends, though, and that Kenny was a good place to start the endeavor. The idea felt daunting to him, like he was somehow trying to replace Craig with something much more banal.

"I talked to Clyde," Kenny announced when they neared the park. Tweek sent Kenny an uncomfortable side-eye and tried not to focus too much on the plastic and rubber platforms that he'd lounged around with Craig on. "He said that Craig's been a real mess of an asshole."

"I wouldn't know," Tweek admitted quietly.

"Well, yeah. You haven't talked to him."

Tweek grunted. "It's not like I haven't tried, okay? He's avoiding me."

"Maybe."

"No, he is. He's ignored m-my texts and I can't talk to him at school. He just runs off."

Kenny kicked at a dirty lump of snow that obscured the sidewalk. "Call him."

"Mm." Tweek hoped that sufficed as answer enough that he wouldn't be going through with that plan.

"I'm not trying to be a dick here, but I really think this whole thing is coming from the wrong place," Kenny stated blandly. "I thought about what you said when you came over to my house. I don't think the issue is with Craig touting you around town. I think you're just telling yourself that."

"Well, you're wrong," Tweek ground out.

Kenny rounded on him to block his path. "No, I'm not. And I think you know that."

"Dude." Tweek tried to push past him but Kenny stayed his ground, expression hardening, then took a step toward him. Tweek took a step back automatically, his gut twisting with something between fear and uncertainty.

"I'm not here to be your replacement for an asshole in a dumb hat," Kenny said.

"I never said you-"

"I don't know if you're doing it intentionally, and I don't really care. But I know that you do," Kenny continued. He took another step toward Tweek - they were both about the same height, but Kenny's stance was slouched, lackadaisical compared to Tweek's unease. Kenny continued to advance on him until Tweek's backpack made contact with the chain link fence surrounding the park with a resounding _clang_.

"K-Kenny." Tweek swallowed thickly, eyes wide and frozen to his spot. Kenny's lips were chapped, his skin dry, the faint shadow of hair poking from under the skin above and below his lips.

"Tweek." It was deadpan, and that was something that Tweek typically liked about Kenny, but he found it alarming in this context. Tweek looped his fingers into the metal rungs of the fence, thankful, for once, for the biting cold. "Are you really going to keep doing this?"

Tweek's breath hitched. Kenny placed a hand casually against the fence to Tweek's side, and all he could think about was how uncomfortably close Kenny was to him, of whether he was misinterpreting Kenny's movements. It felt predatory with the way Kenny's brows were knitted together - almost accusatory. "Um."

"Talk to him. Okay? Before you two really fuck this up."

Kenny pulled away at that. Tweek was stuck rooted to where he'd been cornered, eyes wide and breath shallow. Kenny lifted his hood up to combat the falling snow.

"Well, come on then."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

It had been an entire week. As the days had drawn closer to Friday, Tweek had felt his throat slowly closing up. His breathing felt short and painful against his lungs and heart. Tweek entertained the idea of simply not showing up for school on Friday - he knew that he could use the extra sleep, but the idea was mostly rooted in the hope that Craig would notice and ask if he was okay. Tweek supposed that was hypocritical of himself though, because Craig's unrelenting concern had been what had prompted Tweek's animosity to begin with. He decided, however frustrating his day would be, that it was in his best interest to wade heavy-lidded and fuzzy-brained through his classes.

Tweek steeled himself a moment after getting out of the shower, then forced down a bitter pill with a cupped hand full of tap water. He had tried to distract himself with Kenny the previous night - it had worked, for the most part, and Kenny hadn't brought Craig up at all while they sat around his room and pieced together some models. But after his mom had driven Kenny home and he had wormed his way into the couch to watch a movie with his parents, Tweek couldn't help but be reminded of Craig.

He felt terrible. Tweek had resolved that if Craig hadn't contacted him by the end of the weekend, he would have to grovel for forgiveness.

Tweek: Craig please.

Tweek waited for the bus that morning. He didn't think that his legs had enough energy to carry him to the school, and the thought of collapsing into a pile of shoveled snow at the end of someone's driveway wasn't exactly preferable to the school bus, however grating the rides typically were.

He spent his Friday as he'd spent every other day of the week - staring wantonly at the whiteboard and letting his teachers' words melt through barely legible pen strokes onto his lined notebook paper.

Tweek had decided to stay after his last class to ask the teacher a few questions. It was mostly because he didn't want to have to watch Craig breeze past him to his car while Tweek idled, unable to make his voice cooperate with him, but also because he'd fallen behind in the class. And every other class. He didn't think any of his peers would be of adequate help for geometry, and the textbook didn't offer anything for him. He felt a bit pathetic about the whole thing.

"Mr. Seiks?" Tweek asked quietly. He'd made his way up to the teacher's desk, his papers from the day clutched tightly in his hand. They were starting to crinkle.

His teacher looked up from some paperwork that he was trying to compile hurriedly. "Yes, Tweek?"

"I was wondering if you c-could go over this proof with me again," Tweek said. He glanced down at the crudely drawn triangles on his paper. "The scalene one."

"Have you checked the online portal?" Mr. Seiks asked. Tweek watched the man run a hand through his graying hair before getting to his feet and wiping away the marks on the whiteboard.

"Not yet," Tweek answered honestly. "I think I'll get it if you go through it one more time."

"That's kind of a long proof," his teacher said, a soft sigh behind his words. Tweek watched him write a series of times on the board, a half hour between each. "Why don't you come in early on Monday? Or shoot me an email?"

Tweek chewed his bottom lip and looked down at the crumpled C- in the corner of his latest quiz, stalling for a moment. "Okay."

Some students started to walk slowly into the room as Tweek made his way back to his desk. It became apparent to him that Mr. Seiks was tasked with hosting detention for the week, and Tweek thought it was just his luck as he started to pack his bag.

He felt resigned to the fact that he would have to spend the rest of his weekend alone. Not even his teacher wanted to talk to him. He tried to push that kind of thinking out of his head as Tweek sucked down a steadying breath. Still, he didn't know what he would do with himself if Craig kept this charade up. Tweek felt stupid about the whole thing, having played into a fruitless game of cold shoulder when all he really wanted was his boyfriend back. His best friend.

Or, at the very least, some closure.

Tweek startled when he felt a set of fingers tapping briskly on his shoulder. He turned to see Kenny, eyes wide and grinning.

"You're in my seat," Kenny said.

"Oh. Sorry," Tweek mumbled, shoving the rest of his papers into his book bag.

"You got detention too?" Kenny asked. He leaned against the small desk and Tweek tried to step to the side to put some more space between them, but he couldn't quite zip up his bag from that angle. "What did you do?"

"No," Tweek said quietly, keeping his eyes downcast and busying his hands. "I just had some q-questions about the homework, that's all."

Kenny hummed. "Well that sounds lame as all get up."

"So does having detention on a Friday," Tweek shot off quickly, frowning.

"Yeah. You've got me on that one."

"Why are you here?" Tweek asked, more to distract Kenny enough to get to his backpack.

"Oh, you know, skipped the wrong class," he drawled while looking around the room to survey the group of students that would be joining him. Tweek pursed his lips - he'd never skipped a class before on purpose. He wasn't exactly sure what kids were supposed to do with only an hour at their disposal. And the consequence of having to stay late would not only cut into his work hours, but serve as an even bigger annoyance than trying to find a way to spend that hour anyway.

"You end up taking my advice?" Kenny asked, whipping his head around to pin Tweek with his gaze. Tweek physically recoiled, unsure of what he was supposed to do with Kenny so close to him - in a room full of his peers, no less.

"Not yet."

Kenny tsked. His lips were still chapped and he looked almost as tired as Tweek felt. Probably not as tired as Tweek looked, though. Kenny seemed more like he was leaning against Tweek's former desk to keep himself upright, however, not because he wanted to study Tweek as closely as he appeared to be.

"Are you high?" Tweek asked in a whisper.

"Yu-u-up!" Kenny sang out happily, smiling.

"Dude."

Kenny shrugged and let his black backpack fall to the floor with a thud. "It's not that bigga deal, my friend. Gotta pass my time here somehow."

Tweek watched as Kenny leaned forward to pull a piece of lint off Tweek's shirt. "Um." Kenny surveyed the ball of fuzz for a few moments in his bony fingers before flicking it aside onto the tiled floor.

"I had fun yesterday," Kenny announced, looking back up at Tweek.

"Me too," Tweek said automatically. He clenched his jaw, tensing under Kenny's quizzical blue eyes.

"Did you want to get together again?"

"Okay. N-Not this weekend though," Tweek answered in a rush.

"Oh, got some big plans, Tweek?" Kenny teased. Tweek thought Kenny's wide grin looked dumb. "Got a _hot date_?"

"Come on, Kenny," Tweek grumbled. He made to step around Kenny and head for the door because Kenny's lascivious attitude was starting to freak him out.

"I'm just messing with you!" Kenny insisted, lifting a slender arm out to block Tweek's path. "I know you're still in your heartbroken, pining stage right now. You should get out. Get it off your mind."

"I don't…" Tweek started, glaring at the dirty tile floor. "I don't know if that's really…"

"What?" Kenny insisted.

Tweek readjusted his bag over his shoulder uncomfortably, trying to summon the courage to just breeze by Kenny and make his escape.

"Dude. I'm not hitting on you," Kenny vowed. "Don't flatter yourself so much."

"Okay."

Tweek turned to head the other way down the row of desks and leave the long way around, but Kenny made a grab for his forearm. The sudden movement and touch send sparks through his vision - he felt dizzy and queasy. Tweek closed his eyes briefly and promised himself a nice nap on the couch for his efforts today.

"I'm serious," Kenny persisted. "I know you're all gung-ho about holing up in your house. And that's fine. Do what you need to do to get your head back in shape. But you've got people to talk to about it."

Tweek looked down at Kenny's hand wrapped around his arm, a strange feeling curling in his stomach. "Thanks."

"Yeah. For sure."

"What are you doing?"

Tweek jerked his head around, breaking contact with Kenny, and tried to keep himself from fainting on the spot. Craig was standing stiffly next to Kenny, backpack in hand, and scowling.

Kenny looked elated glancing between the two of them. "Problem?" he said behind a thinly-veiled laugh.

"Yeah," Craig cut in quickly. He stepped around Kenny's outstretched legs and wrapped his grip around the same arm that Kenny had been holding just a few moments prior. Tweek almost lost his footing as he was dragged forward, trying not to stumble headlong into the next row of desks.

He didn't try to break the contact. Tweek didn't even question Craig as he was tugged out into the hallway. The shock of what was happening dulled even the painful grip around his arm and the labored breathing as Tweek tried to keep pace with Craig. He could feel his heart thrumming wildly in his ears.

Craig was here.

Tweek was too heady with anticipation to get anything past his lips - he didn't think he would be able to decide where to start. _I'm sorry_. Was that what Craig even wanted to hear from him? _Where are we going?_ But that didn't really matter, Tweek told himself. _Please don't be mad at me anymore_ \- he wondered if Craig was pissed that he was talking to Kenny. He'd certainly looked angry. Tweek sorted through a hundred different excuses all at once as to why he'd turned to Kenny for advice. _GodI'veMissedYouSoMuch_.

Craig was silent, unaware of the barrage of emotions and one-sided conversations that were flying through Tweek's brain. They finally came to a stop in a deserted locker bay in the science wing near the back of the school.

Tweek's head was reeling as he stared at Craig, eyes wide and chest heaving. "Wha… What's going on?" he settled on inelegantly.

Craig turned to face Tweek fully. He didn't look angry, Tweek decided, scanning his face for any sign of Craig's emotions. He didn't look particularly pleased either. Tweek's heart swelled up and he fought away a gasping crow as he made a grab for Craig's arm so he wouldn't have to go without Craig's touch for any longer than he already had.

"Craig… I'm sorry about what I said," Tweek rushed, taking another step toward him. "I thought about everything all week and I j-just… I don't want you to be angry with me anymore. You didn't deserve that. You're right, it wasn't fair. I miss you and I'm _sofuckingsorry_ about-"

Tweek wasn't prepared for the forceful connection of Craig's body against his. He felt his back hit the lockers and the wind being pushed from his lungs, and he didn't have a chance to recover because Craig had covered Tweek's mouth with his own. Tweek scrambled for purchase against the metal doors as he tilted his mouth upward, greedily, and tried to ignore one of the dials digging into his hip. He didn't dare break the embrace, however impromptu and public they were being.

Craig pulled away when Tweek felt like he was going to faint, hands still cupping either sides of Tweek's face. Tweek gasped down a few breaths and studied Craig's expression manically in the hope that he wasn't imagining all of this.

"I know, Tweek."

Craig leaned in for another impatient and hurried kiss. Tweek thought Craig might actually turn into one of those interdimensional monsters that he'd speculated about as his vision blackened...

He felt his knees buckle after that.

* * *

Tweek woke up, startled, and glanced around the brightly lit white room. His parents were there, sitting immediately to his right, the doorway to the rest of the hospital yawning open just behind them. Craig was there too, hunched over in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair next to the window to his other side. Tweek glanced down at the end of the bed. The hospital linens felt scratchy under his fingers.

"Oh my God, Tweek, we were so worried about you," his mom started. She scooted her chair closer to him when she realized he was awake. His mom didn't seem to be crying, but Tweek noticed the streaks of mascara on her face.

"Sorry," Tweek said sheepishly. He changed positions in the bed, trying to relieve himself from the suffocating atmosphere in the room. "I don't… I don't really know what came over me."

"Your blood pressure got too low," his dad answered. He looked better than his mom did, but there was worry plastered over his usually jovial face as he sat, arms crossed, next to his mom.

Tweek rubbed the side of his head. "I think I remember them saying that," he admitted.

"This was what we were worried about," his mom continued. She made a grab for Tweek's other hand and Tweek risked a glance at her intent expression. "If you don't eat enough, Tweek. This is what happens. You're going to get sick."

Tweek nodded, admitting defeat. "Yeah. I know. I'm s-sorry."

His mom withdrew her hands and settled them into her lap, continuing to stare at Tweek with concern. "What happened?"

Tweek looked over at Craig. He'd since sat up and was regarding the exchange in silence. "Um."

"You fainted at school," he heard his mom say, "but the doctor wanted to know if you hit your head, or if anything triggered the episode-"

"Can I have a few minutes alone with Craig?" Tweek cut off.

He didn't see the surprise on his mom's face, but Tweek guessed it was there. Craig was looking at him, elbows propped on his knees, fingers laced together in front of him tentatively.

"Okay," Tweek heard his mom say behind a sigh. His dad promised her a hot cup of scorched hospital coffee as they got to their feet.

"Your toes are blue," Craig said softly, gesturing toward the end of the hospital bed.

"What?" Tweek panicked as he tried to toss the blankets aside.

Craig cleared his throat. "They were, anyway. When you got here."

Tweek gave up wrestling with the blankets and regarded Craig for a while in an attempt to solidify the fact that he was really here, seated next to him. "Oh. Is that bad?"

Craig shifted, frowning. "I mean, I would assume so."

"Are you s-still mad at me?" Tweek asked quickly. He wiggled his toes. They didn't feel blue.

"No."

Craig looked exhausted, Tweek noted. He had deep, bluish circles under his eyes that Tweek desperately hoped he wasn't the cause of. "Did you have detention?" Tweek asked to change the subject.

"Yeah," Craig answered tiredly. "Did you?"

"No."

Craig carded his fingers and looked unsure of himself. Tweek didn't think he'd ever seen Craig in a situation where he was this uncomfortable - he started to fidget.

"I'm sorry I fainted," Tweek put out. "I guess… that you're just that g-good of a kisser," he added in a weak attempt to break the tension.

"You think so?" Craig humored.

Tweek nodded insistently. "I missed you, Craig," he croaked.

Craig reached out a hand and Tweek let his pale fingers find purchase against the rough heel of Craig's hand. His arm was propped against the plastic sideboard, hanging gently over the edge of the bed.

"And I'm sorry about last Friday," Tweek continued sullenly.

"It's okay," Craig assured. "I shouldn't have reacted like I did either. I just… I dunno, Tweek. I'm scared for you."

Tweek squeezed Craig's hand in his, heart twisting into knots over Craig's words. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"I don't need to hear that anymore."

"Oh."

"Is this my fault?" Craig asked, face screwing up in grief.

"N-No!" Tweek said quickly. "No, Craig, it's not. I haven't really been taking care of myself lately. This was probably going to happen anyway… I just… I know that sounds dumb but I don't really know how to explain it."

Craig frowned and waited for Tweek to elaborate.

"I should have been m-more honest with you from the start," Tweek admitted. He turned his attention to the lowering sun and surrounding deadened foliage out the window.

"What do you mean?"

Tweek shifted again, repositioning his grip on Craig's hand. "Can I talk to you about it when I can go home?" Tweek asked timidly. He didn't want to have this conversation at the hospital. "If that's okay with you."

Craig nodded, jaw set. "Okay."

"Thanks."

Tweek gave Craig's hand another squeeze. Craig's eyes turned themselves toward the tiled floor and Tweek couldn't help but think that he looked sad sitting there. And that made Tweek feel even worse than he'd felt all week. He didn't know if he was supposed to feel bad for Craig right now, but Tweek didn't have the energy to try to wrestle with the thoughts too much. Was he supposed to be angry that Craig had put him through the last seven days without so much as a hello? Was he supposed to just let that go and pretend that everything was back to normal? Tweek wasn't even so sure what normal was between them anymore. He told himself that the latter option was kinder on the nerves.

"You look really tired," Tweek said after a while.

"Yeah? So do you."

"I could use a nap," Tweek answered behind a stretch. He didn't want to sleep in the hospital though - the thought that there were strangers milling about only a dozen paces from him filled him with a sense of anxiety. Tweek briefly entertained the idea of asking whether Craig would spare a sliver of his bed later. The thought of being wrapped up in Craig's scent as he fell asleep made his heart flutter, but Tweek didn't think his parents would be letting him too far out of their sight for a while.

"Me too," Craig agreed.

"Why did you have d-detention today?" Tweek asked. "I mean, I'm glad you did… Wait, I'm not glad that you're in trouble… I dunno. I'm just glad that we're, well, you know…"

"Mm," was all Craig offered to fill the gap that Tweek had left for him. As much as Tweek generally enjoyed his silence, Tweek found himself desperately searching for words to fill the gaps in their conversation. "I cut some classes."

"Oh." Tweek hoped that he didn't have anything to do with that. "Why?"

"Didn't want to go," Craig offered simply. He offered an exhausted smile to Tweek.

"I get that. This week has been r-really tough on me too."

"Sorry," Craig ghosted quietly. Tweek felt a stabbing numbness go through his hands and feet.

"It's fine," Tweek said quickly. "We can catch up on homework this weekend. I mean, if you want to… Hey, do you think they'll waive your detention because of me?"

Craig cocked an eyebrow, surveying the length of the hospital bed. "I doubt it."

"They might," Tweek added hopefully.

Craig shrugged. "You'll have to help me though," he started. "I don't really study that much. I guess I never really learned how."

"Oh, it's not that hard," Tweek insisted. "We can be each other's… cheerleaders."

Craig rolled his eyes and fought off a smile. "That's gay," he mimicked in Tweek's voice.

"Yeah, well. I guess it is."

His parents walked back into the room after that, styrofoam cups in their hands, with his doctor following closely behind. She had a set of files clutched in her manicured hands. Tweek swallowed sharply, knowing that he was going to have to sit through another lecture on her and his parents' behalf. With Craig in the room.

"Are you boys finished chatting?" his dad asked. He settled back into his chair with an audible sigh.

The doctor didn't wait for an answer before launching into a speal about Tweek's eating habits. It was all something that he'd heard a half dozen times over in half as many weeks, from all parties in the room, but Tweek resigned himself to the fact that he probably deserved this talking to.

"You can do real damage to your body," she continued. "Undernutrition can weaken your heart and bones, and put extreme stress on your kidneys. Not to mention making your other existing conditions much worse. Have you been doing this intentionally?"

"No," Tweek assured forcefully. "I just haven't felt good. Eating kinda makes me feel like I'm going to throw up."

His doctor took that piece of information down in her notes and glanced at Tweek's parents. "I'm going to give your parents a recommendation for a daily vitamin supplement. You need to take it with a meal." Tweek watched as she tore off a piece of paper from her notes and handed the slip to his dad.

"Okay."

"Try lighter foods for the first week. Nothing too protein heavy like red meat. After that, try working in a protein shake as a snack between your other meals."

"What about this?" his mom asked, brandishing a packaged sandwich from her purse.

The doctor looked at it briefly. "That should be fine."

Tweek took the plasticked sandwich and set it on his lap.

"You can get back to school on Tuesday or Wednesday," his doctor said in closing. Tweek chewed his lip, immediately wondering how his parents were going to handle the extra hours they had to cover at work without him under house arrest. "I want you to log a food diary on our app. We'll have a nurse check in on it every few days."

Tweek nodded in acceptance of his regimented punishment.

"I'll have one of the RNs come get you off the IVs in a few minutes and you can go home," the doctor said as she made her way toward the door. Tweek relaxed.

"Hospitals use apps now?" his mom asked.

His parents discussed the matter and Tweek turned his attention back to Craig who was in the process of getting to his feet. He stretched his long limbs, casting Tweek in shadow as he obscured the window.

"I have to get going," he admitted.

"Okay," Tweek said, because he couldn't think of anything more concrete to offer. He didn't want to be left alone with his parents right now, but he figured that the whole mess was probably even more awkward for Craig to deal with.

Craig leaned over and pressed a kiss to Tweek's forehead - he would have been more embarrassed since his parents were around, but he couldn't summon anything besides gratitude.

"Bye, Craig," Tweek said softly.

"Thank you," his mom said as she got to her feet. She embraced Craig as he skirted around the hospital bed. Tweek watched her pat him on the back, standing tall on the tips of her toes to do so. "Thank you for calling us so quick."

"No problem," Craig answered stiffly. He waved to Tweek's dad as he made his way to the door. "Text me later, okay?" he added, zipping into his jacket.

"I will," Tweek called a little too forcefully.

Tweek started to pick at his sandwich when Craig left. He wished that Craig would have stayed - he didn't feel like he'd had any time to reconcile the last week. His parents began to grill him over what had happened at the school and Tweek was glad to have food in his mouth so he could have a few moments to think of an adequate answer. He wasn't going to admit to them that he had fainted when Craig had kissed him. They didn't need to know that. Tweek instead settled on telling them that he didn't really remember much of anything at all. Eventually, the nurse came to remove his IV.

* * *

Craig didn't take much convincing to get him over to Tweek's house - he'd come straight from work on Saturday. Tweek's parents were working at the shop and he felt a little bad about that, just lounging around the house while his parents were out being productive. Trading off shifts that he was supposed to be taking care of. Tweek had tried to make the best of his time at home though. The mountain of laundry that had accumulated on his chair had been washed, folded, and put away. He'd finally gotten around to vacuuming. His room was cleaner than Tweek had thought it had ever been. Even Craig looked impressed when he stepped into Tweek's room.

"You've been busy, I see," Craig hummed.

Tweek nodded and shut his closet, turning to take in Craig for the first time in what felt like ages. "Yeah. I gotta do something or I'll go stir-crazy. Err… well, you know."

Craig chuckled and set his bag down. He found a spot on Tweek's floor, back pressed up against the bed and legs outstretched in front of him.

"You can sit on the b-bed if you want to."

"No, that's okay. You just made it," Craig said as he made himself comfortable.

"I don't care about that," Tweek answered, scrunching up his nose.

"Really," Craig insisted. "This is fine."

Craig didn't look much better than he had looked sitting in the hospital with Tweek on Friday. His skin was pale. He looked tired, but at the same time, comfortably pleasant splayed out on Tweek's floor like that. He was glad for that, at least. Tweek sat down in his chair after having milled around his room for a few moments longer, stalling to collect his thoughts.

"How was work?" Tweek asked as he clasped his fingers together and leaned forward.

"Long," Craig admitted.

Tweek swallowed. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really." Craig yawned and arched his shoulders in a half-stretch. He tilted his head back against Tweek's bed and the yellow ball on the top of his hat snagged on the corner of the mattress, revealing the black hair that poked its way from underneath. Tweek liked the way Craig's Adam's apple looked from that angle. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Tweek balled up his hands in his lap and tried to figure out where to start. He was reminded of Kenny's strange, strung-out but well-meaning intensity - _what would you want someone to do if you were in his shoes?_ "Well, I'm sure you've guessed as much, b-but it's about the medication that I'm taking."

There was a long pause as Tweek took his time choosing his next words. Craig didn't try to rush him, heavy-lidded as he was, and patiently watched Tweek shift around in his chair.

"I guess that I should really start off by saying that I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner," Tweek broached in a rush. "It's just that… I'm not really sure what to do with the information right now. And it really isn't a, um, a definite thing. I guess I just didn't want you t-to worry about me…" He snorted a bit at himself. "That kinda backfired, didn't it?"

"Mm." Craig pulled his knees up to his chest and propped his arms atop them. Tweek watched Craig wiggle his fingers around.

"I got a stomach ulcer a little while back," he continued. "The doctors just thought it was something like… I don't really remember what they called it. Referred pain? I dunno. The fact is, they thought I was making it all up or s-something. But they figured it out. I had all these antibiotics and that just made everything else go wrong."

"Bodies are strange places," Craig offered off-handedly.

"I guess. I had to have all these tests and whatever. That's why I was out of school for a while. It wasn't anything serious so I didn't really mention it. But they decided that my brain was what was making everything all haywire. Go figure, right?"

Tweek took a moment to regain his breath. The whole explanation made him feel like he was trying to justify and explain and downplay wherever he could, and the words just ended up feeling desperate and frantic on his tongue.

"So they thought that the meds that I was taking weren't doing enough. A-And they were kinda right. I mean, I still felt like... I don't know, too wound up, I guess. But I mean, that's just kinda who I am. But anyway, they picked a different medication that's supposed to help with compulsions and anxiety and stuff and, well, that's the Klonopin." Tweek tilted his head toward the pill bottle on the end table next to his bed. Craig glanced at it, still expressionlessly listening to Tweek's long-winded explanation. He patted the spot next to him to gesture for Tweek to join him on the floor. Tweek hesitated, but eventually made his way over to Craig.

"And I think… I think it's doing a better job. Than the last stuff, anyway," Tweek continued as he found a comfortable spot next to Craig. He was hyper aware of how their arms brushed together when he tried to relax.

"That's good," Craig put in.

"But… it's an antipsychotic," Tweek said slowly. "I mean, they talked to me about what happens when someone like, actually goes _crazy_. Like, for real. There's a lot of stuff that makes a p-person that way. I mean, most of that stuff doesn't exactly apply to me anyway, but…"

Craig shifted to look at Tweek's torn face. Tweek wondered if he was losing Craig. "But what?"

Tweek fidgeted and pursed his lips as he tried to force the words out of his mouth. "But like, with all the anxiety and stress that my brain makes up over all this little shit, they think that my brain might not be able to deal with it after a certain point. That I might g-get schizophrenia."

Craig continued his silence for a long moment. It felt like an eternity to Tweek. The worry that Craig thought he was somehow damaged, or worse, a ticking time-bomb just waiting to explode crazy all over everything in his path made Tweek want to take back everything that he'd said. Maybe if he jumped up and yelled _April Fools_ or _just kidding gotcha_ enough times, Craig would forget all of this had ever happened. That option didn't seem likely.

"Guys don't get it until they're like, in their twenties though," Tweek rushed to explain. "And it isn't even a sure thing, it's more just a precaution but-"

Craig wrapped his arm around Tweek and pulled him close. Tweek stiffened with the sudden movement. "But I think it's important that you know because-"

Tweek didn't get another word in through the kiss that Craig had pressed intently to his mouth. His hands were jittery with adrenaline, so Tweek kept them in his lap while leaning into Craig's side.

"I don't care about any of that," Craig said gruffly.

Tweek balked, his breath hitching in the few inches between their faces. "R-Really?"

Craig kissed him again and Tweek thought that sufficed as answer enough. He felt Craig's cold and calloused hand brush against Tweek's jaw, tickling the little wayward hairs behind his ear. Tweek wondered briefly if Craig's hands were dirty from having to carry boxes around all day at work, but he decided that he really didn't care either way. Craig ran his tongue along Tweek's lower lip, and he parted easily for Craig. The salty and sweet, slightly musty taste of Craig's mouth had been a commodity that he'd missed dearly in the last week.

Craig's hands moved to Tweek's back. He felt Craig's fingers make their way under his shirt, trying at the bones and muscles that stuck out from the odd angle that Tweek was perched at, and Tweek eventually let himself climb into Craig's lap. There was an anxious desperation for Craig's attention in Tweek's buzzing brain.

He tried the roof of Craig's mouth with his tongue, careful not to get tangled and caught on teeth. Craig sighed into the embrace and Tweek liked the hot breath on his cheek. He liked the feeling of Craig's hands pressing against his skin. Craig's hands made their way to Tweek's biceps and Tweek found himself on his back on the freshly vacuumed carpet with Craig kneeling over him. One of Craig's hands was held fast to Tweek's jaw while Craig pried into Tweek's mouth with his tongue. Tweek focused on sneaking his breaths between tongue and lips, telling himself that this was what he wanted.

And he did. He wanted intimacy. He wanted to want someone, to feel desired, without feeling like he was hiding something crucial and damning about himself locked away somewhere. Tweek wanted Craig to know - desperately - but was afraid that he'd drive Craig away if he knew the truth. Tweek wrestled with the fact that he'd almost succeeded in driving Craig away, but for different reasons entirely.

Tweek's hands skittered on the carpet until he met Craig's jeans. He clutched the fabric with thin fingers, enjoying the feeling of the worn fabric. Craig pulled away after that and wiped his lips on the back of his hoodie's sleeve.

"Sorry," Craig said softly. He'd turned his attention elsewhere in the room.

"I like k-kissing you!" Tweek stammered. He got his elbows under him and hurried in for another kiss but Craig shook his head and leaned away from the embrace. Tweek felt his heart tighten considerably in his chest.

"No. Not for that. For everything else," Craig elaborated. "I want you to feel like you can talk to me about this stuff. I haven't been doing a good job letting you know that if you were… so scared to tell me."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Tweek insisted. He leaned back on his elbows again, eyes wide as he took Craig in. Craig almost looked ashamed with his face screwed up like that, jaw set and eyes unwilling to meet Tweek's.

"I didn't talk to you for a week. I don't think that warrants your undying trust," Craig mumbled. He stuffed a hand under his hat and rubbed the side of his head. Tweek watched him eventually cast his hat off to the side.

He wasn't sure how to respond to Craig's admission. Tweek bit his lip, trying to search for words of assurance that usually seemed to come so easily to Craig. With their roles reversed, Tweek was at a loss. "I… I'm trying to be better at this. It isn't your fault. This is hard. I don't know how to deal with any of this on my own. So like, I d-didn't think that you needed this kind of thing thrown on you too. Not until I could figure out what to do about it."

"I'm supposed to help you figure this kind of stuff out," Craig said, finally looking at Tweek with a strange expression. "I… I don't think I'm going to be much help, but…"

Tweek reached out a hand and started to work at Craig's stiff fingers splayed out on the carpet. He wasn't sure whether Craig wanted to continue their makeout session, but Tweek knew he wanted Craig to relax and stop blaming himself for Tweek's own foolishness. Tweek brought his hand up to Craig's arm and pulled on the fabric of his hoodie.

"Can we just keep… you know… kissing?" Tweek asked timidly.

Craig regarded him gently for a moment. "Yeah." He obliged.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

Tweek was starting to get antsy being home on his own. He'd appreciated the copious amounts of greasy and cheesy food his mom prepared, and at least one of his parents had tried to stay home with him on Sunday and Monday, but Tweek found himself alone more often than not. He'd gotten in the habit of sleeping until ten or later, which was doing wonders for the bags under his eyes, but Tweek spent his mornings and mid-afternoons trying to find ways to occupy his time.

He tried his homework and found it required more attention than he was willing to give. He was so far behind that it felt like an insurmountable task, so Tweek set about typing emails to his teachers. He didn't have to wait long for replies and most of them responded with extensions on his work, which Tweek was pleasantly surprised about. He felt silly about the whole thing though, having let a little fight between him and Craig affect his work so much.

Tweek was happy, though. Craig was back in his life and Tweek didn't have to wonder whether his texts were going to go ignored anymore. He'd danced around the kitchen while unloading the dishwasher while his parents were away, appreciating the fact that he'd done something that had felt impossible only a week ago. He'd told the truth. And Craig hadn't run from him like he was the plague.

As expected, Tweek received a few texts asking how he was doing come Monday night. He wondered briefly if Craig had told everyone what had happened on Friday, but Craig was never one to let his personal matters - or the matters of those around him - become a topic of conversation. Regardless, rumors tended to travel fast in South Park, and Tweek was quick to answer their questions.

Especially Kenny's.

Tweek managed to sit through dinner with his parents that night for the first time in a few weeks. They had dropped trying to press him for more information about Friday and seemed content that Tweek was simply eating meals supervised. He logged the meals accordingly and received a gold star from the (probably bored) RN that was tasked with checking the data.

Craig: hey do you want me to bring over your hw tomorrow?

Craig: or yknow I could just toss it and come over anyway

Craig: pretty sure you dont have to do it

Craig: dude

Craig: if I had health insurance I'd totally go to the hospital to get outta this shit

Tweek: Yeah, if you could.

Tweek: You don't have health insurance?

Craig: I don't think so

Craig: I dunno I guess I never asked my parents

Tweek: What happens if you get sick?

Craig: lmao idk

Craig: die probably

Tweek: Not funny. :(

Craig: come on it was a joke

Craig: I'll come over after school tomorrow

Tweek texted Craig, stretched out on his bed, for most of the night. He was excited at the prospect of getting to spend more time with Craig, even if it was under the guise of getting caught up with his schoolwork. Or even actually doing his schoolwork. The familiar itch of anxiety was starting to wedge itself back under Tweek's skin. His stomach felt a little sour at the thought of how far behind he was, but Tweek figured he would be able to sneak in some quality makeout sessions between textbook chapters. If he could get Craig to actually crack one of the books. He fell asleep, phone in hand, wondering what kind of sneaky tactics he would have to employ to get Craig to study.

It was nice getting to wake up without his alarm blaring him into a dizzying vertigo. Tweek spent his morning clearing off his desk in preparation for Craig's arrival, and his afternoon trying to wash the sweaty scent of heavy sleep off his skin. His parents were out for the morning but his mom had come home earlier than he'd expected. Tweek hadn't told her that Craig was coming over. He figured it was too late to mention it when his phone jarred him out of towel-drying his hair in the bathroom.

Tweek met Craig at the door.

"You're looking a lot better," Craig offered candidly. He kicked off his snowy boots and followed Tweek toward the stairs.

"You do too."

His mom poked her head from around the corner of the hallway to survey the two of them. She didn't interrupt them aside from asking whether Craig was planning to stay for dinner, and what he wanted to eat.

"Anything is fine," Craig answered absently as they paused at the foot of the steps.

Tweek caught Craig's arm and pulled him up the stairs - Craig didn't say anything further until they made it to Tweek's room.

"Where did all your figures go?"

Tweek started pushing the extra chair in his room across the floor toward his desk. "I put them away. Haven't been feeling like working on them much lately."

"That's too bad," Craig answered. He set his bag down and took the desk chair as he shuffled papers around. After a few moments of thumbing through the documents, he handed Tweek a small stack and harrumphed at his own pile.

Tweek bit his lip as he took the papers. Craig seemed to be just as far behind as Tweek was, and that made him a little sad. "You really d-don't study, do you?"

"No." Craig's brow was furrowed as he searched for where to begin. The frustration in his expression was growing. "I told you that."

Twirling a pencil in an uncertain hand, Tweek frowned. "Well, isn't teaching someone the material supposed to be the best way to study?" he piqued. "Teach m-me what we went over in class today."

Craig looked visibly uncomfortable with the idea, clearly overwhelmed with the task set before him, but Tweek leaned in toward him and forced a smile. "Come on. It can't be that hard," he coaxed in an attempt to get Craig to break out of his shell.

"We talked about this cycle in biology today. It has to do with energy," Craig explained. He turned a few pages in his fraying textbook and settled on a page with a big blue diagram. Tweek started to skim the page.

"So it's like, you eat something," Craig continued, "and your body does this to convert it to a chemical that your body uses for energy."

"ATP," Tweek corrected for him, circling the chemical in question in the book.

"Yeah. That."

Tweek stared at the cycle with some apprehension as he tapped his pencil against the pages. "Do we have to memorize this whole thing?" he asked.

Craig groaned, his back connecting with the chair. He had to catch himself on the desk to keep from falling over. "Unfortunately."

"Okay," Tweek answered, trying to keep his response light and upbeat for Craig's sake, despite being overwhelmed with the task himself. He started to dig out some colored pencils from his book bag and set to work attempting to copy the diagram from the book. Craig watched him, seemingly interested, until Tweek passed him a few of the pencils. "If you write it out, you'll remember it better."

Craig toyed with the writing utensils for a moment but eventually conceded and retrieved a tattered notebook from his own bag. Tweek snuck a peek at the crude copy that Craig was making.

"I can't even pronounce like, half of these words," Craig grumbled.

Tweek chuckled. "I don't think that's the point."

"Well, what is the point?" Craig admonished.

"Aww, don't give up," Tweek cooed. "You g-got this."

Craig stared at Tweek for a moment then returned to his diagram. Tweek thought it looked a bit lopsided, but he encourage Craig to continue anyway.

"Okay, it's done," Craig announced, thrusting the notebook toward Tweek for his approval.

"Great. Now we draw it again," he said with feigned confidence. He wasn't exactly sure whether the method was going to work. "But try not to look at the textbook this time."

Craig pursed his lips and flipped his notebook over. "This is really boring, you know?"

"Yeah," Tweek admitted.

"But if you insist."

Craig had to ask Tweek a few times what words went where - and how to spell them - but the diagram ended up looking more like the one in the book after Craig's second attempt.

"One more time," Tweek continued.

He watched Craig bounce his knee impatiently, wondering if Craig was doing this just to humor Tweek, but Craig ended up finishing his third diagram before Tweek did.

"Awesome." Tweek leaned over to survey Craig's work with a grin. It was sloppy, but correct.

"What do I win?" Craig asked cheekily. Tweek looked up, attempting to hide his small smile, and settled on pressing a kiss to Craig's cheek. Craig caught Tweek's jaw in a rough hand and turned their faces toward each other.

"Is that all you n-need to get you to do your homework?" Tweek asked after another kiss, breathless.

"Basically," Craig admitted.

Tweek pulled away and shook his head. "I guess we can work something out, then."

"Good. I like this deal." Craig reached for his laptop after that and put on some music while Tweek sorted out their geometry homework. They each had a hefty packet of worksheets to get through.

"Mr. Seiks is kind of a dick," Craig lamented as he paged through his own booklet. "How is anyone supposed to get through all of this in like, two days?"

Tweek surveyed the problems. He didn't want to admit that he was feeling the same about their geometry teacher for the lengthy problems scrawled across the pages, but also for the brushing off that he'd received on Friday. "Yeah. He kind of is," Tweek eventually agreed. "But he puts everything up online, at least."

"Mm." Craig pulled up a tab on his computer and started perusing through the links on a search engine. He settled on a page that had a near identical problem as the one in front of them, with all the steps and answers laid out.

"Dude. That's cheating," Tweek said between glances at the screen and Craig's shit-eating grin.

"So? He doesn't explain anything in class, so I don't see the problem with it."

Tweek frowned but gave in automatically. He didn't want to spend two hours trying to muddle through the work on his own. After they settled on an answer for the first page, he kissed Craig again. "For your ingenuity."

Craig chuckled and set his pencil down to turn his full attention over to Tweek to deepen their kiss. Tweek let himself relax into Craig's lips.

"If this is what studying with you is usually like, I think I can get used to it," Craig said huskily as he leaned away to catch a breath.

Tweek felt his cheeks get hot at the comment. "I mean, we can m-make it a regular thing," he answered boldly.

Craig pulled Tweek into his lap and kissed him. The balance was precarious on the well-worn desk chair, and Tweek found himself having to brace much of his weight against the desk. He tried to ignore the straining in his arms while Craig worked his tongue against his own, but getting lost in the movements was proving to be an easy enough feat. Especially when Craig slipped his hands under Tweek's sweater to palm at his hip bones.

The sound of the door opening made Tweek jerk in surprise. He bumped against Craig's nose in the process and nearly fell, but once he got his feet under him again, Tweek scrambled back into his own chair.

"Sorry!" It was his mom in the doorway, looking just as surprised and sheepish as they felt. "I knocked."

Craig brought his hands up to his nose, clearly wincing in pain as Tweek wiped their shared saliva from his mouth with the sleeve of his pullover. He hadn't heard anything through the music and Craig's attention.

" _Mom_."

She laughed and shook her head. "Dinner is ready, if you boys are finished."

* * *

Tweek decided that he'd had enough of sitting around at home and dragged himself out of bed on Wednesday to head to school. Craig picked him up dutifully, though he looked even more haggard than Tweek felt, and Tweek hung back in the warm car outside the school while Craig sucked down the rest of a cigarette. He didn't care that it made him late, or that they would both likely get in a heap of trouble if they were discovered, because Tweek was just content to share Craig's company once again.

His teachers were more understanding about his homework situation than they had been over email, and Tweek was thankful of that fact, but had resigned himself to his fate of having to stay after school and work something out with them. He ended up typing out a message as such to his parents and wondered if Craig would be down to come over again to study. If his parents weren't home when they got there, Tweek wondered how their afternoon together in the confines of his room would pan out. He entertained the idea of insisting they stretch out on the floor, or on his bed.

He was feeling better. Not just about Craig - though Tweek acknowledged that they still had some difficult conversations to get through between making out under the thinly veiled guise of studying - but about his brain. Tweek supposed the fact that his classmates seemed happy to see him again had a lot to do with that fact.

Tweek was peeling apart a sorry excuse for a breadstick at lunch, ignoring the typical lunch time banter in favor of fantasizing about Craig jumping him amidst a pile of their half-finished homework, when he spotted Cartman sauntering up to their table. He looked distraught.

"You guys gotta help me," he opened, pressing his hands down on the table in an uncomfortable thud.

Tweek glanced around at the rest of his peers, wide-eyed, then back to Eric Cartman, whose lip was quivering and looking wholly out of place in his varsity football jacket with the rest of them as his backdrop. His lower lip was quivering. Tweek thought it looked like he'd been crying.

"What's going on?" someone chimed warily.

"I just… you guys gotta meet me at the front of the school after class," he bowled out.

Tweek twirled his fork in his half-finished mushy spaghetti in an attempt to stay out of the conversation.

"Dude. We're not coming unless you tell us what this is about."

"Heidi. It's about Heidi," Cartman relented, clearly frustrated that the conversation wasn't playing out the way that he'd intended it. "I need as many people there as possible. Please guys, you just gotta do this for me."

Tweek tried not to look at Eric any more than he already had. He felt embarrassed for him, and having to sit through the charade was making his anxiety spike. But the memory of what Clyde and Kenny had told him about the alleged cheating while they had smoked in Kenny's basement a week and a half prior came floating back to him, and Tweek couldn't say that he wasn't entirely uninterested with the direction that the situation was taking.

"What do you want us to do though?" someone continued to pry suspiciously.

"You don't have to do anything besides be there!" Cartman griped, gesticulating wildly. "Come on. I've always been there for you guys when you've needed it."

Tweek bit the inside of his cheek to try to keep his next words at bay. He wasn't successful. "No, you haven't."

"Oh, okay, Tweek," Cartman hissed, rolling his eyes. "Like we don't go way back."

"I'll be there," Tweek relented, feeling the eyes of the rest of his companions fall on him warily.

"All right!" Eric gave the air above his head a punch in triumph. "Bring the rest of these dweebs with you," he added as he moved onto the next table to repeat the exchange.

Tweek frowned, deciding to take out his phone and shoot off a few quick texts to Craig to ask if he knew anything about what was going on.

Craig: fuck if I know

Craig: he's been doing this all day

He tossed the rest of his lunch and made due with choking down a granola bar on his way to his next class.

Tweek: Are you going to go?

Craig: I still have detention

Craig: but yeah

Craig: I'm gonna try. Shits probably gonna be hilarious

His English teacher looked surprised that Tweek had done the reading assignment despite his absence, but Tweek assured her that he didn't want to let his leave get in the way of his homework. She insisted that if he had any questions that Tweek could visit her any time. He made his way to biology after that and settled into the desk next to Craig's usual spot.

Craig arrived a few minutes later and joined Tweek, grinning.

"How many detentions do you have left?" Tweek asked as he arranged his papers.

Craig shrugged and stretched out on the wooden desk. "Don't remind me. I don't want to think about it."

"Sorry."

"They did waive that last one though," Craig said, giving Tweek a thumbs up. "Thanks for that."

Tweek rolled his eyes. "You're welcome, I guess."

"Token and Clyde are going to be there today. After class. For whatever stunt Cartman is planning to pull."

"Did you figure out what's g-going on?" Tweek asked.

"No."

"He said it had something to do with Heidi."

Craig stuck his tongue out but Tweek could pick out the subtle excitement in his expression. "Of course it does," Craig said.

"Eric actually seemed pretty shaken up."

"That's just how he reels you in," Craig continued, waving off the concern with easy fingers. "It's all for show. I'm surprised that she didn't get fed up with him sooner."

Tweek bit his tongue. He knew that Cartman and Heidi's relationship had been rocky in the past, but nothing of this perceived magnitude had seemed to crop up in recent times. Tweek had thought that Cartman had outgrown his childish antics for the most part, though Tweek admitted to himself that he was at least a little excited. There was a certain degree of nostalgia he felt about it, regardless of whether he was getting roped into something that he hadn't necessarily agreed to be a part of.

Their teacher handed out a quiz after the bell had rung. She paused as she rounded on Tweek's desk, but Tweek lifted a hand to take the sheet of paper.

"You can do this one for practice if you want," his teacher offered hesitantly.

"No. I'll take it," Tweek insisted.

"There was a lot of material that we covered yesterday. I'm not sure if-"

"Really. It's okay. Craig is a p-pretty great tutor," Tweek said.

The teacher looked taken aback by the statement, glancing between Craig and Tweek with a look of confusion. A few students around them looked up and chuckled to themselves.

"Dude," Craig offered awkwardly.

"I'll take it," Tweek said with an air of finality. The teacher gave him the paper and moved on to the next student.

It was the same diagram from the book but the words had been blocked out and there was a word bank in the corner. Tweek winked at Craig and filled it out. For the rest of class, they were made of act out cellular processes by milling about the room from one corner to the next, much to everyone's (except for the teacher's) chagrin. The bell couldn't come fast enough.

Tweek started to gather his things when Craig surprised him with an intense kiss and a thank you for helping him ace the quiz. He watched, a little dazed, as Craig hurried out of the classroom. Tweek was left to awkwardly palm the worksheets that he and Craig had muddled through the night before as he made his way toward the geometry classroom, hoping Mr. Seiks would be as lenient with his work as the rest of his teachers had been. His grasp on the class was still weak at best.

And as his luck would have it, Mr. Seiks seemed awfully bashful when he intercepted Tweek on his way to his desk. His teacher apologized quietly. Tweek thought that maybe his teacher suspected that his trip to the hospital could have been prevented had more attention to Tweek's questions been paid the Friday before, and Tweek didn't mention anything about it, preferring to have the silent trump card in his back pocket in case the need arose to use it. Mr. Seiks handed him a printout of the scalene proof that he'd asked to have explained to him.

"Thanks."

Tweek offered to make up the quiz that he had missed later in the week, but his teacher offered to simply drop it from the gradebook entirely. Tweek insisted on taking it on Friday instead.

When the class was over, Tweek made his way toward the front of the school. Along with half the student body. There were inquisitive and excited chattering whispers between everyone headed in the same direction. Tweek spotted Token and Clyde walking together and hurried to meet up with them.

"Hey, Tweek. How's it going?" Token asked gently when he caught up.

"Pretty good. How've you guys been?"

"Oh, you know," Clyde answered, rolling his shoulders. "Causin' trouble, runnin' amok. The usual."

Tweek chuckled as he fell in line with their stride. "Right."

"It's good to see you again," Token said.

Tweek wasn't exactly sure what he'd expected from the two of them, but their easy acceptance warmed his heart. He pondered whether either of them would have been open to talking about the fight that he and Craig had had after the football game and whether or not turning to Kenny had been the right call to make. Tweek liked the both of them. They had always been Craig's friends first and foremost, but Tweek promised himself that he'd at least try to reach out to them if he needed it in the future.

They caught up with Craig amidst the throng of other students gathering in the foyer. Cartman was standing in the middle of the group in an attempt to get them all to line up on either side of the hallway. He was wearing a full tuxedo. Tweek did a double-take, assured that Cartman hadn't been wearing it earlier in the day, and wondered where he'd procured it from. It fit him poorly.

Tweek fell in line with Craig and the rest of their friends and he wondered how Eric Cartman had managed to get the power to control so many people. He wasn't an especially intimidating person, but Cartman had always seemed to be good at manipulating situations to get what he wanted. Tweek supposed that everyone just went with it at this point.

Cartman shuffled over to them and took Token by the shoulder to shuttle him toward a boombox.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Craig said under his breath.

Tweek didn't know where the stereo had come from either, nor the bouquets of flowers that were being passed out to everyone at the front of the gathered groups. He watched, interested, while Cartman explained something to Token about the stereo.

They were both handed a bouquet of flowers. Tweek laughed and tucked one of the flowers into Craig's hat. He didn't protest, instead turning to Tweek and waggling his eyebrows.

"Okay. Okay! Everyone, just shut up!" Cartman whirled around to face the assembled crowd.

"Dude, this guy is cra-a-azy," Craig whispered as a collective silence fell over everyone.

"Yeah," Tweek answered, wincing a little at the comment. He knew Craig didn't mean anything malicious by it. "What d-do you think is gonna happen?"

"I dunno."

"Token, play the song."

If Eric Cartman had anything going for him in life, it was his impeccable grasp on timing, because Heidi emerged from the science wing, a pile of books pressed against her chest in crossed arms. Bebe was with her. They were laughing about something until they realized what laid in wait for them.

Tweek thought for a moment that Heidi was going to make a break for it as she stood, shocked, and a small part of him hoped that she would. He didn't know how he'd react if this grand of a gesture was extended toward him. Everyone was staring at her, Cartman first and foremost positioned in the middle of the crowd. He beckoned her forward.

Heidi looked pissed.

And then Cartman started singing.

Tweek had to contain his laughter. Craig couldn't, standing next to him, nearly vibrating in delight. The rest of the student body seemed to be at a loss as to how to react to the scene. Tweek caught Stan, Kenny, and Kyle exchanging deer-in-headlight looks between each other, but Cartman didn't let the awkwardness deter him.

" _If you ever leave,_

 _Baby you would take away_

 _Everything good in my life_

 _And tell me now_

 _How do I live without you?"_

Heidi started toward him shaking her head. She brought one of her hands up to run through her brown hair as red began to color her face. Tweek couldn't be sure it if was in embarrassment or rage, or some combination of the two emotions, or yet something else entirely.

" _Without you_

 _There would be no sun in my sky,_

 _There would be no love in my life,_

 _There'd be no world left for me…"_

Heidi breezed past Cartman and tried to make her escape through the front doors. Cartman hurried up to her, panicking.

"Wait!" he howled. "Wait, I'm not done."

Cartman hurried through the next lyrics, offbeat and off key, and made to take hold of Heidi's shoulders to bring her toward the center of the gathered students. Bebe was just as red in the face as Heidi, and tried to come between them. Heidi gracefully brushed both Bebe's and Cartman's hands away, shaking her head in disbelief, but stood where Eric had directed her to anyway.

When the song eventually came to a close and Token clicked the boombox off, Cartman took a knee.

"No way," Craig said, unable to keep himself quiet. "This is fucking great."

Cartman shuffled around his pockets and came up with a small black box which he thrusted insistently out toward Heidi.

"Heidi, I want you to marry me."

"What?" she practically shouted into the dead silence.

"I said I want you to marry me," Cartman repeated more confidently.

The only sound after that was the crack of her hand connecting with Cartman's cheek. Tweek's jaw dropped and Craig was back to having to hold his sides to contain himself.

"How dare you!" she hissed. Heidi retracted her hand and looked around, seemingly becoming aware that she was surrounded by intent eyes. "After everything you've put me through this week?" she continued, this time more quietly.

Bebe made a grab for Heidi's arm to shuttle her out of the school.

Cartman seemed too shocked to know what to do with himself. He was still on his knee, arm outstretched toward his girlfriend, unable to process what had just befallen him.

"Heidi, I love you," he called as Heidi turned away from him.

"Just… Just go to hell already, Eric!" Heidi hissed, her voice cracking as Bebe successfully tugged her toward the doors to the school. The door shut behind the two of them.

Cartman didn't get to his feet right away. His hand started to tremble. The first people to move were Stan and Kyle, who started to make their way over to him. Tweek couldn't be sure because his back was turned, but he thought Kenny was laughing, doubled over with his arms around himself.

Craig was laughing too. Tweek was honestly too shocked with the exchange to know really what he was supposed to do after that, and the crowd started to disperse quietly around him. Craig pulled Tweek along with them.

"Oh, God," Craig howled, "that was _epic_. That was… That was better than _The Office._ "

"Poor guy," Token offered weakly, but he looked like he was trying to hide his own laughter.

Craig had to stop against a row of lockers to contain himself. He wiped away a tear that had made its way onto his cheek. "Oh, my God."

Clyde snorted. "Dude, that's what he gets for telling everyone that Heidi's been sleeping around."

Tweek forced his own smile as Craig righted himself once again. "That watered my crops, fed my children, and cured my depression. Seriously, best thing to happen to me all month," Craig continued.

Token and Clyde said their goodbyes and headed toward the doors while Tweek searched for something to say. He came up empty-handed, but didn't turn down the opportunity to walk Craig to detention.

* * *

Tweek thought that maybe his doctor was onto something because he certainly felt a lot better after a few full days of solid meals were under his belt. His stomach had taken a while to get used to it, but he found having to write everything down on the hospital's app helped him stay on track.

There were whispers at school about Cartman and Heidi all through Thursday. Tweek tried not to lend them much credence - just thinking about what had happened the day before made him cringe inwardly - and Tweek tried to just march through his day as best he could. He was officially back on the schedule at work. His parents had seemed itchy to have some time off, but they had asked him one too many times whether he was feeling up to taking the evening's shift. Tweek was honestly looking forward to being at the shop - he would have something productive to do with his time.

As much as Tweek complained to himself about never having enough free time, he had found himself at a loss for what to do with himself when such opportunities presented themselves. At least if he was busy, Tweek could occupy his mind with menial chores. Having to stare at his half-assembled figures, his book bag filled with homework that he hadn't started, and wondering if he was being too obnoxious by texting Craig every half hour somehow made Tweek feel empty. He both hated and enjoyed being busy, and Tweek didn't quite know what to make of that.

Craig: hey so no pressure but

Craig: theres this party tomorrow

Craig: well its not really a party actually its more of a get together

Craig: its gonna be at stans house. Kenny was gonna bring that keef over

Craig: I'm gonna go

Craig: you can come too if you want

Craig: but its no big deal if you want to stay home

Tweek shook his head at the seven messages that Craig had sent in rapid succession as he finished closing up the coffeeshop. He told himself not to get annoyed with the tiptoeing that Craig was doing on his behalf - Craig was trying to take his feelings into account after all. And Tweek appreciated that.

Twee: Sure. I'll go.

He felt his pocket buzzing as he made his way back to his house. He was dutifully handed a plate full of rice, chicken, and broccoli when he made his way into the house, not even having had enough time to shed his jacket. Tweek took the plate up to his room and stretched out on the bed, picking at a few bites between sending texts to Craig.

Tweek: I thought you were pissed at Kenny.

Craig: no

Craig: not really

Craig: I mean there isnt really anything to be mad about is there?

Tweek: No.

He chewed for a thoughtful moment on the end of a broccoli stalk, wishing that he had snuck the salt shaker up with him, but he was too lazy to get up and grab it. Tweek wondered if he should tell Craig that he had hung out with Kenny while they'd taken a brief hiatus, and he hoped that Craig wouldn't take the fact personally. Still, Tweek convinced himself that he would feel better if Craig knew the truth and he didn't have to hide anything anymore.

Tweek: I did go over to his house last week though. And he came over on Thursday.

Craig: why

Tweek: I was asking him advice about what to do.

Tweek: About us.

Craig: more coals to stoke the fire in that nosy bastard

Tweek snorted to himself and set his mostly empty plate aside, deciding that it was time to get started on his homework.

Craig: no but I do like Kenny tho

Craig: hes annoying as hell sometimes but hes got mad hookups

Tweek: I think the two of you are more similar than you think.

Craig: whats that supposed to mean?

Tweek: Well you both try to do the right thing most of the time. I know you care about people more than you let on.

Craig: oh

Craig: thanks

He smiled to himself and set the phone aside, content to wrap up in his English book before he fell asleep. The walk to school the next day was spent wrapped in his winter gear, and Craig was waiting at the entrance to the school for him with Clyde and Token. He walked into them coordinating rides to Stan's house for the "get together" that evening - and by coordinating, the other two were just bickering about what time they wanted Craig to pick them up. Craig gave up on their conversation easily and turned his attention to Tweek, but their time together didn't last long before the warning bell for class interrupted them.

Tweek was caught up, for the most part, on his schoolwork. That came as a relief to him. His teachers had stopped treading so lightly around him too and Tweek was thankful for the opportunity to fade back into the background once again. Craig waited for him outside the door to Mr. Seiks' class while Tweek made up the quiz that he'd missed.

"I thought you still had detentions to make up," Tweek said as he exited the classroom, adjusting his bag.

"Yeah, well. I make it a habit to not go on Fridays when I've got something to do."

"Reasonable."

They made their way out to the parking lot. The sun was still out. With how dark South Park usually became in the wintertime, Tweek took his time walking toward Craig's car, content to soak up the bright rays of sunshine in the chilly air. Craig still hadn't broken the habit of spinning his keys around his fingers.

"Did you want to stop by Taco Bell?" Craig offered when they reached his car.

"Sure."

Craig hummed happily as the car started under them. "What do you want?"

"A quesadilla s-sounds good right now," Tweek admitted. He hadn't eaten much of his lunch.

They brought their spoils back to Craig's house and settled into the small kitchen to eat. Tweek pulled himself onto the counter to sit, much the same was that Craig typically did at the coffeeshop, though his feet dangling off the edge of the counter didn't come nearly as close to grazing the floor as Craig's long legs did.

Ruby made her way into the kitchen while they were hastily working through the meal. She paused behind the counter, quirking her eyebrow at them. Tweek rather liked her developing attitude.

"What are you guys doing?" she asked, one of her hands perched on a popped hip.

"Nothing," was all Craig offered her in return.

She snorted. "That's dad's."

Craig glanced down at the beer in his hand and shrugged at her accusation. "You can't have Mexican food without beer. Since when do you care?"

"Taco Bell _isn't_ Mexican food," Ruby drawled through a roll of her eyes. Tweek stifled a smile at Craig getting heckled by his little sister.

"Like hell it isn't!" Craig defended.

"Whatever," Ruby mumbled. She breezed past Craig's tall frame, further cramping the confined kitchen, and collected a bag of chips. "Hey, Tweek," she offered cheerily after procuring her snack.

"Hello, Ruby," Tweek responded while swallowing a bite of thick cheese and tortilla.

"You don't look as sick as you normally do," she added, popping a chip into her mouth. Tweek looked down at the tiled floor so he wouldn't have to watch her eyeing him closely, as if testing the waters.

"Uh."

Craig groaned. "Just get outta here already," he said as he tossed a packet of sauce at her.

"Rude," Ruby hissed. She stuck her middle finger up at Craig as she made her retreat to the living room.

"Sorry about that. Turning into quite the little bitch, that one," Craig admonished. He shook his head in mock exasperation.

"I heard that!"

Tweek laughed and stuffed the rest of his quesadilla into his mouth. "It's fine." The domesticity of the scene put him at ease a bit.

"You sure you want to come out tonight?" Craig asked, sending Tweek a wayward glance as he started to rummage through some of the cabinets.

"Yep," Tweek assured.

"There's still time to back out. I'm not gonna be mad."

"No, I think it sounds like fun."

"Mmkay." Craig withdrew a mostly full bottle of Jack Daniels and an unopened bottle of vodka. Tweek didn't recognize the label on it, but he liked the way Craig's hands curled around the glass. He found himself lately noticing small details that he hadn't paid much mind to about Craig - the way his veins stood out on his hands, the way Craig had to brush his messy hair out of his face because it was growing out… "It's cool if I drink tonight?" Craig asked.

Tweek lifted a shoulder to give his answer. "You're the driver."

"Yeah, yeah," Craig mumbled, waving Tweek off dismissively. He fit the bottles into his backpack easily and Tweek wondered where Craig kept his textbooks. "You sound like Token."

Tweek slid off the counter and gathered their garbage to stuff into the overflowing trash. When the cleanup was complete, Craig tossed his head in the direction of the stairs, and Tweek started off obediently in tow behind him. He noticed Craig's bag clinking suspiciously as they mounted the stairs.

"I'm gonna put on some music," Craig announced as they entered his room. "You in the mood for anything in particular?"

"No, not really."

Craig retrieved his laptop and plugged it into a set of speakers that adorned his desk. Tweek had never really inquired to what bands Craig liked to listen to, but he recognized the melancholy beats and somber, poetic rap lyrics that began to fill the room. He tried to sneak a peek at the screen but the artist's name appeared to be just a jumble of strange Wingding characters that Tweek couldn't make sense of. Honestly, Tweek didn't think he'd seen anything as singularly _Craig_ before in his life.

"You know," Tweek started as he looked around at the posters on Craig's wall and at the movies scattered about on the dresser. "For someone who likes space so much, you really don't like science."

Craig whirled around to face him. "Hey, now. I never said I don't like science," he defended.

Tweek sat down on Craig's bed and scooted around to find a place in the bundled blankets and clothes that were piled atop it. "I have to b-bribe you with kisses to get you to do your homework for biology."

Craig puffed his cheeks full of air. "Space science is different."

"You're right," Tweek continued teasingly. "Pretty sure all that stuff is math. You don't like that either, if I recall correctly."

"I like science- _fiction_ ," Craig insisted. "Emphasis on the fiction part."

Tweek chucked at Craig's comment and laid back on the bed. He used a wad of blankets as a lumpy pillow, stomach feeling heavy laden with melted cheese and soda. The sound of Craig lighting up a cigarette drew Tweek's attention.

"Aliens are pretty cool, I guess," Tweek lamented quietly. "The cute ones though. With the g-green heads and big eyes. Not like, _Predator_ , or anything."

"I don't discriminate," Craig answered. Tweek heard him tossing around the contents of his nightstand as he spoke. "They're all pretty cool in my book. Besides, aren't your figures based off of aliens?"

"No," Tweek said. "Well, kinda. But that's like, a different genre of what I play."

"Oh."

"There's some pretty neat stuff though. I think the Tyranids are actually based off of _Predator_ , come to think about it. And there's these space r-robots that are modeled after _Terminator_."

"I am a friend of Sarah Connor," Craig quoted in an Arnold Schwarzenegger impression. "Can I see her please?"

Tweek chuckled. "This is the Tiki Motel!"

Craig packed the plastic bag with crumbling weed and loose tobacco into his backpack, then took a seat next to Tweek on the bed. Tweek flickered his gaze over to Craig's smile in the dim room.

"You're so weird, Tweek."

"Oh, like you're any more normal than I am," Tweek snorted.

Craig leaned back and took a drag off his cigarette. "I guess we make a good pair, then."

Tweek stuck his tongue out then started to bat away the silver smoke that was drifting toward him. "Knock it off with that mushy stuff, will you?"

"What?" Craig asked. "Too gay for you?" He snuffed out the remainder of his cigarette onto a long forgotten plate on the nightstand.

"Hardly."

Craig propped his forearms forward and leaned in close to press their lips together. "How's that?" he asked softly.

"You taste like an ashtray," Tweek grumbled, scrunching up his face.

Craig laughed and pulled away. "Did you need to get anything from home before we go?"

"No," Tweek said after a thoughtful moment. "I think I have everything that I need."

"I wonder what I should wear," Craig mused as he got to his feet. Tweek eyed him as he made his way over to the dresser.

"I think what you're wearing is f-fine," Tweek offered pointedly. He liked Craig's well-worn striped hoodie. It was soft to the touch from so many trips through the laundry. Tweek turned to press his nose into the blankets to catch the familiar scent of Craig on the bedding.

"Yeah?" Craig pulled out a T-shirt and shook the wrinkles out. From his vantage in the dark bedroom, Tweek couldn't be sure if the shirt was orange or pink. It had a band logo on it that Tweek didn't recognize and was surrounded by a plethora of seemingly hand-drawn hearts and clouds.

"Okay, _that_ might be too gay," Tweek drawled, letting his head fall back against the mattress.

"You think so? I haven't gotten a chance to wear it yet."

"I think it should stay that way."

"Rude."

Despite Craig's words, Tweek heard Craig shuffle through the contents of his dresser again. When Tweek finally looked up, Craig was turning to look at himself in the full-length mirror hung on the back of his door. He was clad in a plain black shirt under a gray parka.

Tweek hummed. "That actually looks pretty cool."

"Thanks."

"I d-didn't know you were into fashion," he continued.

"Well, you know."

"No, I don't, Craig," Tweek said, peering at him with his eyebrow quirked. "You get a few lessons from Token?"

"How else am I supposed to be your arm candy?" Craig retorted dramatically from his place in front of the mirror.

"Oh, my God."

Craig laughed and padded over to Tweek. "Nothing wrong with a little flare every now and then," he said, pulling on the hem of his jacket to survey its length. "Gotta make sure everyone knows you've got the cutest boyfriend in South Park."

Tweek shook his head incredulously. "You're really something, aren't you?"

Craig propped his arms on either side of Tweek's chest and forced their eyes to meet. Tweek was frozen for a half second at the proximity. Their thighs were pressed against one another. "You like it, though."

"Yeah, but that hat d-doesn't really match," Tweek tumbled out as he made a grab for Craig's blue and yellow winter hat. It came off easily in his pale fingers and Tweek balled it up in his hands.

"Good point."

"Your hair is a disaster," Tweek said.

Craig blew on his bangs to get them out of his eyes, refusing to budge from his position over Tweek. "Just the way I like it."

"No, but you should really brush it," Tweek insisted. He reached a hesitant hand up to touch the soft, tangled mess of Craig's hair. Craig closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the touch.

"No time," Craig eventually settled on. "Spent all my time picking out my clothes. Gotta hit the road."

Tweek groaned from his comfortable warmth in the bed. "What happened to nobody shows up t-to a party on time?"

"Come on. Time to go to the ball, Cinderella," Craig coaxed as he took hold of Tweek's hips. The touch would have been welcome if Craig wasn't shimmying him off the bed.

Tweek got his feet under himself and obediently shrugged into his jacket as they made to leave Craig's room. Craig's parents must have come home when they were lounging in the bedroom because Ruby was milling about the kitchen while his parents were pouring over something on the counter.

"Where are you headed off to tonight?" Craig's dad asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Craig tried unsuccessfully to pocket the unlit cigarette he had hanging from his lips before anyone could notice. "It's Friday. I'm going over to Stan's house."

Tweek started to put on his shoes so he would have something else to pay attention to.

"You didn't take the trash out," his dad continued, tone somewhere between disappointed and tired.

"Sorry, sir," Craig mumbled out as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Drop the attitude," his dad quipped in such a way that Tweek stiffened at the words.

"Sorry, sir," Craig repeated mechanically as he tied off the trash. He had to shake it loose with some effort to free the bag from its plastic bin.

"When do you think you'll be home?" his mom chimed in. Tweek didn't miss the suspicious glance she sent his way.

Craig shrugged. "I have to work tomorrow morning. So probably like, midnight."

"Be safe, then. And for the love of God, Craig. Quit smoking in the house."

"Yes, ma'am." Craig started to make his way back over to Tweek, the plastic bag of trash in hand. Tweek reached for the door handle but the sound of Craig's dad clearing his throat made him pause. Craig glanced back toward the kitchen while Tweek started to fidget uncomfortably. "Yeah?"

His dad pointed at the empty garbage bin expectantly. Craig huffed and rolled his eyes before handing the garbage bag off to Tweek. It was heavier than it looked.

"Cool. Can I go now?" Craig asked impatiently after having placed a new bag in the trash.

Craig's dad turned his eyes ceilingward and Tweek wondered if he was trying to keep his composure on account of Tweek's presence in his house. Tweek didn't care to get under the feet of Craig's parents if he could help it - it usually ended with Craig being reprimanded over something trivial while they carefully tiptoed around acknowledging Tweek's existence. Though Tweek didn't think Craig did much by way of pacifying these exchanges either, and this situation wasn't an exception.

"Don't drink and drive," his mom relented.

"'Kay, thanks!"

Craig took the garbage bag back from Tweek and tossed it into the brown city can outside the house. It was already dark out. Tweek silently stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Sorry about that," Craig said as they got into the car.

"I don't think your parents like me much," Tweek blurted as he buckled into his seat. The car started under them on the second try.

"Aw, come on, Tweek," Craig coaxed. "They don't dislike you." He plugged his phone into the cord that hung awkwardly out of the dashboard and took his time selecting his music. "They're just… you know."

Tweek looked over to Craig for further explanation. There usually wasn't much more that Craig would offer beyond _that's just the way they are_ , but Craig looked like he was trying to choose his words carefully.

"I dunno. They have so much to bitch at me about anyway. I think the last thing on their minds is who I'm hooking up with," Craig recovered with a sigh. "They're probably relieved that you can't get pregnant."

"Mmkay."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Token's house was their first - and only - stop, because when they pulled up to the enormous house, Clyde came out on the grandiose awning with Token. Tweek was glad of the fact because he was starting to get uncomfortable seated next to Craig in the confined space after they spoke about Craig's parents. It wasn't that Tweek was particularly upset that the Tuckers didn't care for him very much - that was something that he'd known for quite a while. Rather, Tweek found Craig's insouciance on the matter to be more disconcerting.

"Nice parka," Token chimed as he made his way into the seat behind Tweek.

Craig turned his head to survey what Token, who was inarguably the best dressed in their grade, was wearing. "Thanks."

"You're on time for once!" Clyde greeted happily.

"You could walk, you ingrate," Craig fired off at him.

"Yeah, yeah."

They all could have walked. They probably should have, actually, because Stan's house wasn't far from either of their places. Tweek supposed it saved him the chore of making small talk along the way though, and that in itself was worth the added carbon emissions. He still had Craig's parents on his mind when they parked on the street in front of Stan's unassuming home.

They got out of the car and filed up the driveway, chatting happily amongst themselves while Tweek tried to fight off the familiar curl of unease in his gut. He could do this. He wanted to do this. Not just to prove to Craig that he could be a normal, functioning teenager, but to prove it to himself.

The first thing he noticed when they came in through the front door was Eric Cartman sprawled dramatically across the couch. Tweek didn't think that he would be there - in fact, everyone looked surprised, save for Kyle and Stan, who were stretched out on the carpet, controllers in hand. He didn't see Kenny anywhere in the room.

"Hey, guys."

"What's up?" Clyde asked, sliding easily into place on the carpet.

"Just playing some Overwatch," Stan said.

"Shame," Clyde replied through a chuckle as he kicked off his shoes. "That game is so much better on PC."

"That's what I'm saying!" Kenny's voice came sharply from the kitchen.

"Dude, just shut up about that. It's fine on Xbox," Kyle growled. Tweek had a feeling that this wasn't the first time they'd had the conversation.

"Whatever you sa-a-ay," Kenny called behind a laugh. He poked his head into the living room to survey the group that had gathered there.

Kyle huffed, sending him a glance between mashing buttons. "You don't even own the damn game, Kenny."

Kenny scoffed, clearly scandalized, as he took a step back and clutched his cheeks. "Not legally, no," he admitted after he dropped the act.

"Didn't you learn that piracy kills industry?" Stan shot off sarcastically.

"How do you even pirate Blizzard games?" Clyde chimed.

The rest of the group moved to take their seats on the living room floor to watch the match unfold, a layer of jackets and shoes adorning the rest of the floorspace. Tweek perched on the couch's arm, opting to keep his jacket wrapped around himself, and sent Cartman a wayward glance. Cartman had remained uncharacteristically silent through the exchange, laying on his side, arms gathered under his chin. He was staring glassy-eyed at the television. At least if he was a whining mess, he was a whining mess that was easily distracted by video games.

"I ain't spillin' my secrets," Kenny sing-songed from his spot in the kitchen.

"Anyone want a beer?" Clyde offered, content to drop the subject as he started to sift through his backpack.

The chilly beverages were passed out in kind. Tweek had to have Craig open his bottle with the bottle opener that he kept ( _always and forever_ ) on his keychain.

"Cartman?" Stan asked, handing a beer out toward him.

"I'm good," he answered sullenly.

"Really dude? You gonna be like this all night?"

Cartman grunted through an irritated _fuck off_. "You wouldn't understand."

"Right," Stan grumbled sarcastically as he turned his attention back to the match. He took a long, deliberate swig from his own beer.

Tweek glanced at Cartman again, a little uneasy. Their eyes met briefly.

"What are you staring at?" he growled.

"N-Nothing." Tweek turned his attention forward and ran his hand down the length of his beer to collect the condensation on the pads of his fingers.

"Dude, did you catch the new announcements from Blizzcon?" Clyde asked the two boys playing the game in question.

"That Hogger costume was fucking amazing!" Token interjected loudly.

Clyde cast him an odd look. "For Overwatch, Token."

"Yeah, dude. Moira's a major hottie."

"She's trans," Kenny announced as he finally made to join them in the living room. He was delicately carrying a decorative contraption of hoses and glass that Tweek had never seen before. It resembled a vase, but somehow mechanical and alien in nature. It was set down on the coffee table that was pushed off to the side of the room. "I'm calling it right now."

"What?"

"Come on, it's so obvious," Kenny continued dramatically. "She's super tall. Look at those shoulders - God, what I'd give to get my hands around those. And those hands-"

"Dude. You can't just assume someone is trans like that," Kyle said boredly, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

"Who made you the Social Justice Police?" Kenny asked, miming his hands up like he was scared.

"I'm serious, Kenny. You can't just tell something like that by looking at someone. That's transphobic as fuck."

Token started to laugh. "Where did you even learn that word, dude?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, some color rising to his cheeks.

"No, you're right," Kenny answered as he settled into the fold. "I mean, I'd bang her either way. I don't care what kinda parts she's got down there, it's-"

"O-O-Okay," Token cut off, still chuckling. "Before you dig yourself an even deeper hole here, let me remind you that this is a _cartoon character_ that we're talking about."

"So?" Kenny insisted, falling into his own fit of laughter. "While we're on the topic of cartoon characters, I found this really great show you guys should check out."

"We're _not_ watching one of your disgusting hentai flicks," Stan hissed, casting Kenny an all-too-knowing look.

"Oh, come on! The plot is good! I swear!"

Tweek tapped Craig's hip with the toe of a socked foot. "What's hentai?" he whispered.

Craig tipped his head back to look at Tweek upside down, eyes wide and frowning. "Uhh. That might be a conversation for another time."

"When are they gonna make Torb's daughter a hero? I mean, if we're gonna talk about hot Overwatch ladies…"

"Okay! Enough about what video game character that you want to stick your dick inside of!" Kyle howled loudly. "Have some fucking shame."

Tweek smiled to himself and took another swig from his beer. Kenny caught his eye, grinning smugly. "What's that?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the coffee table.

"That's my hookah," Kenny piped up. "I already packed it. You gonna smoke tonight?"

Tweek tilted his head to the side. "I mean, that was kind of the point of coming here, wasn't it?"

"You mean you didn't come here to see little ol' me getting verbally abused by my nearest and dearest?" Kenny asked, voice thick with an accent that Tweek couldn't quite pin down.

"How does it w-work?" Tweek continued.

"Well, if these couch potatoes would get off the damn Xbox sometime this year so we can smoke, I'd show you!"

"Cartman's the couch potato," Stan grumbled, sending Cartman an irritated look over his shoulder.

"I'm grieving here!" Cartman moaned.

"Dude, just shut up already. You brought this on yourself."

"Oh my God, would you two just get a room?" Kenny shot in.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Stan deadpanned.

"Seriously. Just fucking make out already."

Stan rolled his eyes and went to set his controller down, but he thought better of giving in so easily and instead turned to give Kenny a good, hard shove.

"Mm, yes. Take your blue balls out on me," Kenny continued to jab, now supplanted on his ass, hands propping himself up behind his back. "Harder next time, daddy."

"I have a girlfriend," Stan ground out. " _Girl_. _Girlfriend_. Why's everything gotta be so fucking gay with you?"

Kenny shrugged. "I call 'em like I see's 'em," he settled behind a grin that ate up most of his face, clambering toward the coffee table before Stan could get another shove in edgewise.

Cartman groaned and sat up, looking pissed, but he didn't look like he wanted to get into it with Kenny. Kenny started to push the table back to its original position. He had to kick the jackets and shoes out of the way. Tweek caught Token gingerly snap his up to avoid the abuse and Tweek was glad he'd kept his jacket on, because Kyle was opening all the windows in the living room.

"So, Tweek. You don't want the keef to burn. You want it to be just close enough to the heat source that-"

"Uhh, what's keef?" Tweek asked, looking around the room. He wasn't so sure when he'd fallen in with a crowd that was so familiar and comfortable around drugs. It was starting to freak him out a little.

"Okay," Kenny said. "So you know when you have like, big marijuana plants? And how it's kind of sticky on the flower parts?"

"No?"

"The flower is the part that you smoke," Kenny clarified, brandishing the coal he was about to light in a pair of tiny (kinda cute, actually) tongs.

"Okay," Tweek answered, trying to follow along.

"Keef is like pollen," Craig cut in, attempting to speed the process up. "It gets you fucking blasted."

"It's not pollen," Kenny cut in, frowning.

"I don't know i-if I want to get blasted," Tweek said uncomfortably, shifting to bring his arm around himself.

"Keef is-"

"Yeah, yeah, just light the damn thing already!" Clyde moaned, waving his hands around from his spot on the carpet.

"Hey! I'm trying to teach!"

The room collectively rolled their eyes because, well, it was _Kenny_ , and the hookah was technically his. And so was the keef. All that besides, Kenny seemed genuinely proud of his set up, and silently, everyone came to the agreement to at least _pretend_ to be interested in Kenny's rambling. Tweek reasoned that Kenny had done it on his account the week before, hunched over tiny plastic models while they tiptoed around talking about Craig, so he owed him that much at least.

As it turned out, Kenny's excited babbling had deflated somewhat, so he ended up setting the coal into place and sucking on the end of a long hose. He was making an odd face.

"You can come over for some hands-on lessons sometime, Tweek," Kenny added thoughtfully through a weak exhale. He went right back to sucking on the weird plastic tube.

"Excuse me?" Craig barked, but it wasn't quite accusatory. More to save face, Tweek thought.

Kenny waved his hand in dismissal. "I was joking," he forced out, eyes watering as he coughed. The smoke was coming more heavily now. "I don't want your boyfriend."

"Rude," Tweek said.

Token, Craig, and Clyde started to crack up and Kenny passed off the hookah hose to Stan on his immediate right after explaining that the hookah was now "rolling." Tweek took that to mean that it was ready, though he wasn't quite sure why it hadn't been ready from the start. The familiar, sickly-sweet scent began to fill the room. Kenny had stuck the other hose into his mouth and continued to suck down the smoke happily as he came to cross his legs on the carpet.

"All right, that's enough you addict," Cartman rang out. He made a grab for the hose that Kenny had been hogging - it was handed off without complaint, if just a tad bit lazily.

Everyone started to gather around the table after that. Craig settled onto the couch next to Tweek, though made a point of sitting as far away from Cartman as the position would allow. Nobody seemed too keen on sitting between the two of them in the ass-crack of the loveseat, so they contented themselves with parking their asses on well-worn throw pillows and wrapping up in sweatshirts. Tweek didn't move from his perch and worked his way through his beer until Craig passed him one of the nozzles.

"You gotta put your thumb over the hole," Craig explained quickly, demonstrating the motion.

Tweek started to laugh.

"No, not like that," Craig drawled, amused at the insinuation. "When someone else is smoking. They can't pull if you don't."

" _Sure_."

Tweek tried a small puff off the contraption. It was smoother than hitting one of the dirty pipes that Craig and Kenny had floating around the dregs of their backpacks, and he decided that he liked the bubbling noise that the hookah made when someone was smoking. It reminded him of blowing bubbles in his chocolate milk as a kid. The smoke tasted vaguely cold on his tongue.

Craig patted him on the back and Tweek handed off the hose as a second round of drinks got passed around. Tweek resolved himself to the fact that this was _most definitely_ going to be his last one for the night, lest he create a repeat of what had happened - now three weeks ago - at Cartman's house.

Eric Cartman was pretty silent through their banter. Tweek wasn't exactly sure why Eric was there in the first place. Stan and Kyle didn't seem so interested on supporting him through his relationship troubles, though Tweek knew he didn't have the whole story. Cartman always had the effect of becoming the center of every conversation, the butt of every joke, drawing all eyes to his outrageous antics… it was bizarre seeing him so defeated and quiet, simply along for the ride. It almost made Tweek feel better about his own wallflower nature.

Perhaps Stan and Kyle really were his best friends. Tweek thought that was a little sad to entertain too deeply, as he'd always figured Cartman had taken to his new football buddies with ease and gusto, but maybe the two of them were good for the self-absorbed narcissist taking up too much space on the couch. Tweek had the feeling that Cartman usually fell back on the other two as somewhat of a crutch, however, and his sympathy switched to Stan and Kyle.

Well, someone had to do it.

"You said your parents went to Hawaii?" Token asked when a lull in conversation hit.

"Yeah," Stan answered. He was leaning on his side, eyes heavy and looking relaxed.

"Why didn't you go?"

Stan shrugged slowly. Or maybe Tweek was just perceiving it in slow motion. He couldn't tell. "It's a business trip. They're only there for like, two days. Something about volcanoes and minerals, fuck if I know."

"Enough time to catch a tan," Clyde hummed.

"I don't tan," Stan said, rolling his eyes.

"You totally shoulda gone."

"Naw."

"Think about all the honeys in bikinis," Kenny cooed as a faraway look took over his face.

"Coulda taken that elusive girlfriend of yours," Craig teased.

Stan flipped him the bird. Craig returned the gesture in kind.

After his second and less conservative puff of smoke, Tweek started to feel fuzzy around the edges. His head felt like it was spinning, though not with quite the same worrying intensity of last time, more like he might slide off his perch on the couch arm if he moved too quickly. He declined another pass on the hookah. Craig shrugged and took his turn for him while Tweek toyed with the peeling label on his beer bottle. He still didn't like the taste.

They ended up ordering takeout after the hookah made another round across the table and Tweek instinctively cleared the history on his phone, lest Craig go looking for more ammunition to assault his virgin, nubile mind with. Kyle was the one that called in the order though.

"Only two more weeks until break!" Clyde rang out happily, shifting in his spot with glee.

"You get those hotel rooms booked, Craig?" Token asked.

"Yep."

"How much do we owe ya?"

Craig turned his head toward the ceiling, thoughtful for a moment. "I think it worked out to be something like, forty per person for the weekend."

"Oh, splurging on the five star accommodations," Kenny teased.

A snort. "Right."

Tweek pulled out a wad of small bills and handed them off to Kyle when he got up to get the takeout from the door. "Thanks."

"It's a non-smoking hotel," Craig continued pointedly. "If I gotta drag my ass down a flight of stairs to smoke a few cigarettes, then so be it. But God help any of you if you cost me a two-hundred dollar smoking fee."

"Yes, yes. We know," Kyle drawled. "Big scary Craig, knows how to use his fists. Got it."

"You weren't really the one I was worried about," Craig said, turning his attention away from Kyle and instead staring down Kenny.

"What?" Kenny gasped dramatically. "How could you, Craig? I thought we had something _special_."

"Hardly."

Tweek bit down on a laugh and started in on his mushu pork. Kenny took his own container of fried rice and used the opportunity to get closer to the table to weasel his way across Cartman's knees so he was sitting on the floor, directly between Cartman and Craig as they ate. Cartman didn't seem to mind as his attention was on the food in front of him.

"Good?" Craig asked, glancing up at Tweek.

Tweek gave him a thumbs-up through a mouthful of food. Craig seemed content at that, assured that Tweek was eating his fill.

The coal atop the hookah had reduced itself to a gray ash. Tweek thought it looked soft to the touch, but he didn't give in to the compulsion to stick his finger in the middle of it, because it probably would have singed the pad of his finger right off.

"So… you two are talking again," Kenny noted aloud. Tweek thought he sounded amused, if a little chiding, in his remark.

"Yep." Craig didn't seem to want to go into it any more than that, which left Tweek to offer Kenny a small, apologetic smile.

"Well, that's good. I was getting worried there for a second."

Craig sent Kenny a warning look through a mouthful of Chinese food, as if Kenny were approaching territory that wasn't to be tread. Or at least, tread on with proverbial boots as clumsy as Kenny's.

Kenny bounced his crossed knees in jovial complacency as he popped a wanton into his mouth. "C'mon gramps. I'm on your side here."

"Well, I guess I should be thanking you then," Craig mumbled out half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I guess you should."

Tweek sucked in a sharp breath. "Dude, Kenny," he cut in through a quick shake of his head. Leave it to Kenny to worm his way into uncomfortable conversations.

"Not you too!" Kenny started to wail. "Really. I'm hurt."

"No, you're not," Tweek hissed under his breath.

Another casual shrug. "You got me!"

Tweek cleared his throat and cast an uneasy look at Craig, who was stiff, but at least visibly resigned to taking the conversation civilly. "I did appreciate the advice, though."

Clyde, Token, Stan, and Kyle were back to pouring over their game with enthusiasm, chuckling between each other and drunkenly yelping at the screen. Cartman, now sitting erect on the couch, was silent and back to staring at the screen with those deadened eyes.

"Glad someone does," Kenny pouted.

"What about you, anyway?" Tweek demanded suddenly. "I n-never hear any drama going on in your love life."

"Drama?" Craig asked with no attempt to keep their conversation quiet. "Is that what you call it?"

"Um." Tweek clammed up and stared at the carpet for a half-second too long. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Mm."

Kenny was looking on their exchange carefully, holding his tongue, and Tweek was glad when he eventually drawled out a, "me? Drama free zone over here." An insistent and honest wave of the arms followed. "No strings attached. Nothing to complain or bitch about. Plenty of freedom to dive into whatever bodily orifices of my choice."

"Gross," Tweek snorted, but he was back to stifling a chuckle, content and high and trying to spear a piece of pork with his chopsticks.

"So says you," Kenny said smugly.

"But you don't have like, a special someone? Through all of that… _orifice d-diving_?"

Kenny looked thoughtful for a moment as he worked a piece of chicken, the muscles of his jaw rolling with the exaggerated effort. "A few," he settled on cryptically. "But that's not really important."

"A boy or a girl?" Tweek pressed, genuinely interested.

"Oh, Tweek," Kenny cooed dramatically. "I didn't know you were so interested in who I'm tryna fuck. What, you trying to get at me?" That earned him a swift - yet not intentionally painful - kick from Craig.

"No. Really, just honest curiosity." Tweek glanced over to Craig, wishing he could telepath _stop trying to murderkill Kenny with your eyes I'm trying to make friends here that's what you wanted right?_ Right?

"A little of both," Kenny admitted. "And everything in between, of course."

"What does that mean?"

Kenny winked at him with another one of his conspicuous grins hanging on his lips. "Gender is a social construct, my friend."

"So says the guy fetishizing trans Moira," Craig said, his tone a barely measurable amount less steely than it had been.

 _Thank you_.

"Oh, come on. You know I'm right about that!"

"Still transphobic," Kyle called from his place in front of the television, not skipping a beat.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "What about you, Tweek?" he asked, this time more quietly as he leaned in closer. His chin was inches away from Craig's knee which, as far as Kenny was concerned, was the worst place for it to be. "Come to terms with that latent homosexuality yet, or are you still telling yourself otherwise?"

It was Tweek's turn to roll his eyes. "I never d-denied it."

"What about you, Craig?"

"Hm?"

"You gay or naw?"

"No," Craig rumbled curtly, and Tweek didn't miss the flash of interest on Kenny's face.

"I think your recent fashion t-taste begs to differ," Tweek teased, off-kilter, though it was more to cover up the fact that he was trying not to look visibly taken aback by Craig's words.

A disinterested shrug from Craig rubbed against the outside of Tweek's thigh. "I like what I like."

Tweek started to fidget.

"See, that's how it's supposed to be," Kenny interjected, content. "Shouldn't have to think about it so much."

Except that Tweek was thinking about it. A lot. He snuck a glance at Craig through his disheveled hair - he'd relaxed, at least, and had decided that ignoring the two of them to stare at the gaming match was a better use of his time. Tweek chomped on his lower lip and turned Craig's words over in his head. Well… he supposed he'd never really _asked_ Craig. Whether he was gay or not. It made his heart pump a few beats quicker to think about as his brain kicked into overdrive, trying to navigate the buzzing haze of THC and alcohol.

"Will you guys cut that gay shit out?" Cartman grumbled.

"Oh, Eric. Feeling left out?" Kenny asked, scooting to lean against Cartman's leg this time and fluttering his eyelashes.

"Dude, get off me," Cartman grumped.

"We can talk about you and Heidi if you want," Kenny insisted, and Tweek wondered if this had been Kenny's plan all along. "This is an all-inclusive space here."

Cartman did little more than grunt at that.

"Pretty bold move you pulled there on Thursday," he continued to prod.

"Don't want to talk about it."

"You're a bit young to be getting hitched though," Kenny plowed on.

Cartman glared down at Kenny and Tweek wondered how his face wasn't full of holes with all the death glares he'd been getting tonight. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Yes, you do."

Stan snuck a glance over his shoulder, but it went unnoticed to everyone except for Tweek, who couldn't give the gesture much thought through the new flurry of information behind his spinning eyes.

"Really, Cartman. What's been going on?"

Cartman was quiet for a few moments and looking like he was weighing his options, but Tweek didn't think the guy had ever passed up an opportunity to talk about himself. He relented behind a tired sigh. "I love her."

"I figured as much," Kenny answered in turn.

"I just… I don't know, Ken. I'm always fucking things up."

Kenny whistled between his teeth at the unexpected admission. "Don't be so hard on yourself. What's a few rumors about your girlfriend sleeping around with a popular band compared to a lifetime of marriage?"

Cartman moved to shove Kenny, and he might have actually done some real harm had the maneuver connected, but Kenny had snuck his way between Craig's knees.

"Shut up," Cartman hissed.

"Dude." Craig looked down at Kenny, who sheepishly untangled himself from his brief (and smart - Tweek didn't think even Cartman possessed the misguided folly to go after Craig) haven between Craig's knees.

"I'm not the one who started the rumor," Kenny said pointedly to Cartman.

Cartman maintained his silence by rolling his fingers in his hands, cracking the knuckles.

"Were you jealous?"

More silence until an eventual and quiet, "yes."

Cartman opened up after that. Tweek could hardly keep track of the conversation, though he felt that he should, because there was a small part of him that was honestly interested in whether Eric Cartman was finally outgrowing his inability to find fault in himself. Instead, Tweek kept going over the idea that Craig might someday outgrow _him_. A silly childhood ruse that had blown itself out of proportion and was, quite possibly, only maintained because it was somehow _easier_ or more _comfortable_ or just _familiar…_

Craig sent him a look of confusion. Tweek just forced a smile and put more salty noodles into his mouth.

"What do you think, Craig?"

"What?"

"Oh, come on! We're doing some real character development here!" Kenny griped.

"I don't know what the question was," Craig insisted boredly.

"What do girls like," Kenny repeated, and the look Craig gave him at the question screamed _why the hell are you asking me_ , but Kenny was quick to rephrase. "In terms of a stable relationship. I'm out of ideas on that one. Long-term isn't really my thing."

Tweek made a face.

"Jeez, Tweek. Lighten up a little. You basically count as a girl," Kenny said dismissively.

"What?" he squeaked, his grip tightening considerably on the empty beer bottle in an attempt at keeping his fingers from twitching too much. Craig looked at him for a long moment.

"Support her," Craig relented, tearing his eyes away from Tweek and toward the other two. "Girls like to feel like they're in charge. Let them be."

"Already got that one," Kenny said as he ticked off a digit on his finger.

"Don't be clingy," Craig added, this time directed specifically at Cartman through a sharp scowl. "Girls hate that shit. Just roll with it. Let her have some space."

Cartman snorted. "Fat lot of good that's done me so far."

"And then there's the self-pity thing," Kenny added solemnly, ducking to avoid another aggressive shove à la Cartman.

Craig rolled his shoulders. Somehow, this conversation seemed to affect him more than Kenny's insistent prying about his own relationship, and Tweek wasn't sure what to make of that. "I don't fuckin' know, Cartman. Apologize to her."

"Did that one already!" Cartman growled.

Kenny nodded sincerely and peered over at Craig. "He showed me the texts."

Craig ran a hand over his face, still refusing to look at the two of them. "No, I mean in person."

Cartman nodded glumly in resignation.

"Girls don't like it when you chase them-" Kenny seconded that "-so just talk to her. Like she's a human being. It's not that fucking hard."

Cartman got to his feet and stretched, still swathed in his Letterman jacket, which was starting to look a little big on him. "I'm gonna step out for some air real quick," he announced. "Got some thinkin' to do."

"Don't hurt yourself," Craig shot off automatically.

Kenny picked up Craig's hand so he could tap a high five against his limp palm. Craig snatched his hand back when Kenny was finished.

"Oh, fuck you guys. Don't know why I even bothered in the first place."

Tweek set his takeout box on the end table and arranged his chopsticks so they weren't sticking haphazardly out of the half-finished food. He settled them across the top, then decided that they would probably be exposed to more airborne bacteria that way, and stuck them back into the noodles. He repositioned them a third time before accidentally knocking one of the wooden sticks onto the floor. Tweek stared at it, frowning and feeling betrayed, but the gust of cold air as Cartman let himself out convinced him to just leave it be.

"I think we made some real progress there," Kenny chimed happily. He scooted to take Cartman's spot on the couch. Craig found a more comfortable position, now that Kenny's slighter frame allowed him to not be forced into the corner of the loveseat in an attempt to stay out of Cartman's personal space. Tweek felt even colder in the chilly room without Craig's body heat at his side.

"If you say so."

"You'll see. I am the best relationship therapist." Kenny stuck his thumbs out and shoved them into his chest, puckering the fatigued fabric of his sweatshirt. "It is me."

"Great career choice," Craig said, rolling his eyes.

Kenny just laughed. Clyde handed the controller behind him with a frustrated huff and Craig took it, looking like he was happy to get away from the awkward bravado that had just taken place. Kenny eventually got to his feet and collected his hookah to shuttle back to the kitchen.

Tweek watched Craig play for a few minutes before he stood up as well. "I'm gonna, uh, go talk to him," he mumbled quietly, tilting his head in the direction of the door.

"'Kay."

Tweek slipped into his shoes and swallowed, half content to have his own chance to duck outside for some fresh air. He hoped it wasn't just him, that everyone felt the suffocating weight in the living room, but Tweek sincerely doubted it.

Cartman was standing outside on the narrow porch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his athletic pants, just staring wantonly down the street. He didn't look over to acknowledge Tweek as he stepped out to join him.

"Hey," Tweek offered in a weak greeting.

"Hey yourself."

"Um." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Okay."

Cartman let out another weighty sigh. "Sorry."

Tweek didn't think he'd ever heard that word from Cartman's mouth before. It was almost surreal, but Tweek was quick to shove that out of his head.

"So…"

"You think I should go talk to her?" Cartman asked, projecting his inner monologue on Tweek.

"I don't think it c-could hurt," Tweek offered gently. "I mean, that was pretty sweet what you did. You know, at the school. For Heidi."

Cartman sucked on his teeth. The effort sent a small cloud of condensation sailing out in front of him. "Yeah, it was."

It didn't feel so cold outside wrapped up in alcohol and "keef," whatever that really was. Tweek still fitted his fingers into the pockets of his jeans to match Cartman's easy stance. "I'm sure she loves you too," he continued softly. It was his turn to project.

"I know. I just don't know if she should."

A breathy hitch. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They held their silence, both their brains turning over _could have'_ s and _should have'_ s, for a few minutes. It felt like hours to Tweek, but they passed comfortably, even if the person he was sharing the contemplative moment with couldn't possibly understand.

"I'm gonna go get my girlfriend back," Cartman finally broke, his mind made up. Tweek watched him skirt around his side and head down the steps toward the sidewalk.

"Good luck."

And with that, he was left alone on the stoop. Tweek wondered how long he could stand being out there in the cold. How long it would take for Craig to wonder what was up and come out to join him. Ten minutes more? Maybe a half hour? He didn't think he'd be so lucky and, right now, all he really wanted to do was be alone with his thoughts.

Tweek eyed the playground across the street.


	11. Chapter 11

((Author's note: This is an explicit chapter. It is your responsibility as the reader to understand what is appropriate for you, and what is not. The cutoff approximately 3/4 of the way through the page marks the end of the scene in question if you feel you need to bypass certain elements of the chapter.))

11.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing.

The biting chill of South Park's winter didn't seem as imminent in his current inebriated state, and Tweek knew that he'd probably pay for it with stiff joints, chapped lips, and cracked fingers later, but the thing was, he couldn't exactly find the space in his head to care. He just wanted some time to be alone in his head.

Tweek chuckled to himself, laying on his back and staring up at the sporadic cloud cover and smattering of stars above him, not because he found his predicament particularly funny, but because he was thoroughly exasperated with himself. No wonder why Craig called him confusing all the damn time. He couldn't even make up his own mind about whether he wanted to be left alone, or surrounded by a bunch of his carefree, chattering peers to block out the constant inundation of _what the actual fuck_ waffling through his brain.

His classmates had stopped feeling like just that - classmates - a long time ago, but Tweek couldn't exactly pin down when that had happened. Or why.

Well, he knew why.

He just didn't like to think about it too much.

Tweek was stupidly self-aware that his mental state teetered between full-on meltdown and jittering, awkwardly lost wreck. But he'd tried. Tonight, he'd tried. Tweek silently counted that as a success, as pitiful as that felt in his mind. And who knew? Maybe he'd be able to slip back into Stan's living room and no one would be any wiser.

Unlikely.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been on that plastic platform at the park. Time had a weird way of working when he was feeling like this - mentally withdrawing - wondering what went wrong and where along the way that it had happened that left him feeling so dysfunctional. It was in his head. He knew that. He told that to himself over and over again, day after day, but when it came down to it, Tweek had found the ability to just _be_ slipping farther out of reach.

It was frustrating.

Maybe this was what growing up was supposed to feel like. He'd always been an inconsolable mess, but at least he'd been able to pick up the pieces after a good long stare-down with himself in the bathroom mirror. Nowadays, not so much.

He wondered briefly how much Craig had to do with that.

Craig.

 _Craig_.

His boyfriend, for lack of a more comprehensive term ( _companionbro, helpmate, intimacypal, brainkeeper_ …) had always been there with a word or two of baffling encouragement and (practically) military-grade gloves to collect the sharp bits Tweek was too hesitant to pick up himself. Never examining too closely, but willing and intent on sliding the fractured pieces back into (roughly) where they were supposed to fit.

Tweek ghosted a sigh. He really _didn't_ know why he was doing this. To himself. To Craig. He'd probably fly off the handle when he realized Tweek had taken off. Tweek was almost looking forward to the thorough shake-down of brain damage magnitude when Craig finally got ahold of him.

He chuckled again.

Craig's hat was stuffed into his pocket from when he'd snatched it off his head in Craig's bedroom hours (it felt like days) ago. Tweek's fingers closed on it, puzzled, then pulled it out, deciding that his fingers probably deserved the frigid bite of winter at midnight. He had to resist the urge to bury his nose into the knitted fabric (don't be weird it's probably just as grungy as the rest of Craig's unwashed wardrobe) and instead stuffed it on his head. The puffy yellow ball adorning the top served both as a pillow between his skull and the platform, and as an annoying lump that Tweek was pretty sure would give him a headache later.

Well, if the beers and smoking and cold didn't get to him first. He brought his arms around himself, listening to the soft ruffle of his jacket in the otherwise dead silence.

Could Craig really be interested in someone else? Would that happen to him? Tweek didn't even remember a time where he looked at someone lustily. Well, besides Craig. _Duh_. He knew he was reading into an innocent conversation too much - he wasn't being logical, rational, whatthefuck _ever_ \- but the feelings were there. They were real. And the possibility (though it always had been, Tweek knew that) that Craig might someday look elsewhere was real. Really real.

And of course Craig looked at other people! They were teenagers! That was normal. (Tweek wasn't normal.) Their relationship wasn't… absolute. People didn't get married and have two-point-five buck-toothed and smiling kids behind a white picket fence after fooling around with one person in high school. (Okay, maybe Cartman wanted to do that, but Tweek refused to come anywhere close to comparing himself to that guy.) There was a whole world to explore full of people. It would be dumb not to keep options open.

And yet, Tweek didn't want to. He wanted to keep that door closed as long as he possibly could.

He held no desire to shop around for someone else. And rationally, Tweek didn't really have a reason to think that Craig did either, aside from Tweek's own dumb rattling uncertainty that he'd pulled off of, what, two sentences in a four-hour conversation? He shook his head a bit, hoping all the unsolicited worries would ooze out of his ears and get lost on the playground.

Maybe they'd go splat under some poor, unsuspecting child's feet. Leak into the snow, gone forever. He sure hoped so.

Besides, it wasn't like Craig's sexual orientation really mattered. He was with Tweek. And Tweek was essentially being reverse homophobic by letting that wedge itself in his brain. (What?) That sounded dumb. He chyeah'd into the air, watching his breath float away, not quite as dense as Craig's Turkish Royal smoke. Straight-phobic? No. Craig wasn't straight either.

 _A little of something in between_. At least, that's what Tweek had thought Kenny had said.

He really should trust Craig. A bit of guilt was tugging at the corners of his mind - this shouldn't change anything, but it did, like a knife twisting in his gut. (Why? Because there weren't many "options" in their small town nestled in the mountains of Colorado for people of his… _persuasion_?) Craig could have his pick of anyone that he chose. Did Tweek feel threatened by that?

He should feel honored, Tweek told himself, that Craig wanted him above all else.

But he didn't.

He felt scared.

The first time his phone rang, Tweek groaned and clicked the phone onto its silent setting without checking if it was really Craig that was calling him. (Of course it was, but maybe it was his parents. Again, unlikely.) He wanted to continue to stew for a while, to get his head on straight, and hey, Craig was right, because this really was a great spot to get lost in thought and figure shit out. Complicated shit.

He didn't want to feel scared. He wanted to feel excited, bold, empowered, like so many of his friends (that wasn't quite right either, but simply referring to them as classmates felt wholly impersonal in his head) seemed to do with such ease. Tweek was just stuck with a festering malaise about the whole thing. Nice hand he'd drawn.

Deep breath. Okay.

What was his next step, then? He knew that this was wrong (feeling like this, anyway, like he was some kind of testy time-bomb burden) but Tweek had struggled so long with convincing himself that he needed to be something that he, frankly, couldn't, that he'd never dealt with any of this head on.

 _I'm supposed to help you figure this kind of stuff out_.

Mm. Maybe Craig would be better at this than the constant round-and-round of Tweek's brain. (Or maybe this would be the final straw and he'd realize that Tweek was actually really, irredeemably, irreparably bat-shit insane.) _Click_. Another missed call. (He didn't want that. (No, he really desperately didn't want that.))

But what the hell could he possibly _do_ , then, to turn this around? To be the kind of person that he wanted to be? To be the kind of person that Craig deserved?

Tweek wrung his hands. The Klonopin helped. He thought. (He hoped.) The drinking sure didn't. He'd already sat around a shrink's office for more hours than he would care to admit, even to himself, and that hadn't proved any more productive than laying here, squinting at stars thousands of years away, hoping they would give him answers.

Heh. Craig liked aliens. Maybe that was part of the allure to this place. Well, besides the nostalgia of his youthful childhood, clambering around on the play gym (back then it had been made out of wooden rungs and metal slides, until the grownups had decided that astroturf, padded equipment, and squishy tartop was better suited to mitigating head injuries) as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Maybe he just needed something to jog that nostalgia.

His phone rang a third time and Tweek stared at it, resigned and defeated, for a moment.

"I'm at the park," he croaked into the mouthpiece.

"Oh. Good. Thought you'd gone traipsing off with Cartman," Craig's voice came, a little scrambled from the other line.

"As if," Tweek mumbled, more to himself than to Craig, before hanging up the line.

He didn't have much more time to mull over his thoughts before Craig's heavy boots thumped up the plastic steps toward him. Tweek heard him pause against the railings to take in the scene, and Tweek had to admit, it probably looked pretty ridiculous. He sat up a bit.

"Were you ignoring my calls?" Craig asked suspiciously.

Tweek frowned. "Yeah," he admitted honestly.

"Jerk."

"I know," he relented, letting his head fall back against hard plastic. "Sorry."

"Whatcha doin' out here?" Craig asked. He seemed to catch on to Tweek's mood at that, contenting himself with leaning a pair of folded arms across a brightly colored railing and just observing.

Tweek shifted a bit. "Thinkin'. You were right - this is a p-pretty good spot for that."

Craig let out a low chuckle and tore himself away from the banister, settling in next to Tweek. "You realize it's like, ten degrees out, right?"

"Yup."

"And you hate being cold."

"Mm." Tweek closed his eyes when he felt Craig brush some stray hairs off his forehead. "It was worth it though."

"Yeah? Make any startling revelations?" Craig prodded quietly, and Tweek's stomach turned at the slight hint of concern in his voice.

"Not really, no," Tweek said just as softly. "I was planning to come back."

"Before or after you froze solid?" he teased.

Tweek cracked a small smile. "After."

"Goof."

He didn't need to have his eyes open to know that Craig was leaning in to kiss him. Craig's lips were warm against his own, tasting faintly of filched beer and unspoken words, and Tweek reveled in the subtle bitterness of it all.

"M'Toes are probably blue again."

Craig huffed a gust of hot breath against his face and Tweek winced. "That's not funny."

"Oh."

Craig went back to kissing him but neither of them parted lips or searched for tongue. Tweek thought it might have been because of the cold, but there was a marked tenderness in the way Craig cupped his frozen cheek, and Tweek knew it was because of something else entirely. Then again, Craig was usually restrained and gentle after he'd had a few beers. Tweek liked it. He liked Craig sober, too.

He just liked Craig. All of him.

Tweek sucked down a breath that he'd forgotten to take and Craig snickered, having moved to prop an elbow against Tweek's chest so he could reach his lips more easily.

"Making out at a playground," Tweek mused, "how p-positively repugnant."

"Oh yeah?" Craig challenged, shifting his weight.

Tweek jerked away when Craig slipped his hands under the hem of his jacket, frozen fingers splayed and searching for the warmth of Tweek's belly. "J-Jesus!"

"That's punishment for making me worry," Craig hummed, though he clearly didn't mean it to be offensive. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah."

His lips felt so much colder without Craig's mouth there. Tweek moved to get his feet under him and had to grasp at the cold railings for support, mildly appalled with how off-kilter his movements felt, still inebriated. He managed to steady himself and Craig cast him a (joking, Tweek hoped he was _joking_ ) look of disapproval. Craig turned to head down the stairs toward the street.

"Hang on," Tweek insisted. Craig paused and, after getting his bearings straight, Tweek headed toward the slide.

"What are you doing?"

The plastic dragged against his clothes and prevented him from experiencing the exhilarating thrill of his childhood, flying down metal slides, hot to the touch under the summer sun. Tweek came to a disappointing stop at the bottom, his sneakers pressed against packed snow as he paused a moment, thinking.

"Naw. Didn't help," Tweek grumbled to himself as he got back to his feet.

Craig craned over the railing to look at Tweek. "What?"

"Nothing," Tweek insisted. "L-Let's go."

"Okay."

Craig must have collected his belongings from Stan's house because they didn't head back inside when they made it to Craig's car. He thought briefly about retrieving his half-eaten takeout, but thought better of it, and took his place in the passenger seat with a sigh of relief. The drive was a little nerve wracking, but the distance wasn't far, and Craig looked to have most of his faculties intact.

Look, of course, being the operative word there, because they ended up stumbling around the icy walkway up to Craig's house. Tweek shivered and wondered briefly how he had managed his stint at the playground with little complaint. Craig gave his side a squeeze as they mounted the stairs.

"Do you want a quick shower to warm you up?" Craig asked as he fumbled with his house keys.

Tweek nodded sharply through chattering teeth, arms wrapped tightly around himself. "Yeah."

"Careful." Craig caught Tweek's upper arm and guided him toward the stairs. They tried to be as quiet as they could in the dark house until they made it to Craig's room to shed their jackets and shoes. Tweek took a chapter out of Craig's book and left his jacket and sweater in a pile in the corner. He nearly fell trying to peel his socks off his damp feet in the dark.

"I'll go get you some towels," Craig offered softly, his voice hovering just above the volume of a whisper.

"Thanks."

Tweek didn't wait for Craig to return before padding down the hall toward the bathroom. He set the water to scalding and let it run for a few moments, checking the temperature with stiff fingers between studying his reflection in the vanity mirror.

He was still wearing Craig's hat. Tweek tugged on the ear flaps so the brim came low, almost obscuring his wide, glassy eyes from view. It looked better on Craig, he decided.

"What are you doing?" Craig asked from the doorframe. He had an arm full of crudely folded and mismatched towels.

"Um. Nothing?"

Craig let out a low chuckle and set the towels down on the counter, coming close to Tweek, who took a step back out of reflex. Still, Craig reached his hands up and took hold of the long braided strings trailing from his hat. Tweek watched the mischief grow in Craig's expression. He ended up with a knot below his chin and the hat firmly stuck in place on his head.

"Well, I g-guess I'm showering with this on," Tweek said as he turned away from Craig's reach. He pulled his shirt over his head.

"You wouldn't dare."

Tweek cast Craig a dangerous look. "Watch me."

Craig leaned against the counter and frowned, arms crossed over his chest. "You gonna shower with those on too?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of Tweek's jeans.

"No. That would be dumb." He shuffled for a moment at the implication but Tweek worked them off his hips, attempting to ignore the smug look on Craig's face. They ended up piled on the floor with the rest of his clothes. He paused.

"What?"

"Why are you still here?" Tweek asked.

"Well, you said _watch you_ , so that's what I'm doing," Craig answered matter-of-factly.

The steam was starting to fog up the mirror, making the air in the bathroom thick enough to choke on. "I didn't mean it literally," Tweek huffed. He gave in and started trying to untangle the knot under his chin.

"Come here."

Tweek did as he was told, not without hesitation, and had to tilt his head back for Craig to reach the knot. He wasn't sure he would ever be used to Craig's hands on him when he was this exposed, however gentle Craig was being. Tweek studied Craig's expression like that. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, his narrowed blue eyes, the square, set jaw.

"There." The hat was pulled off of Tweek's head, sending his blond hair in a jagged, static halo above him. "Hat's off. You can have your shower now."

He didn't move from his spot on the tile just in front of Craig. His vision was swimming but he didn't look away from Craig's eyes. "Shower with me," Tweek blurted out because… because it seemed like a good idea in his head at the moment, but now that it was out…

The words hung perhaps a moment too long between them. Craig was staring. "What?"

Tweek swallowed. He'd already gone this far, and retracting his words would only make Craig prod him more severely, so Tweek pushed the fabric of Craig's black T-shirt up to his chest, letting that suffice as elaboration enough. Craig didn't seem to need more instruction than that so Tweek quickly turned away, discarded his underwear, and slipped himself behind the shower curtain.

It was dark. He liked that. The curtain provided a much needed shield for his eyes from the rest of the fluorescently lit bathroom. Tweek shut his eyes to block out even more of the light and stood directly under the hot water for a few beats, letting the showerhead soak his hair and run over his tense muscles, fill his ears, warming his face. He had to hold his breath to keep the water from getting into places it shouldn't and the sensory deprivation coupled with his mild intoxication made him dizzy.

He spluttered inelegantly when he felt Craig's arm wrap around his waist. "You're hogging all the hot water."

"S-Sorry," Tweek said. He side-stepped to allow Craig access to the showerhead and briefly contemplated what it would be like, being as tall as Craig. The nozzle was adjusted for his height, set at its tallest setting, and Tweek thought it would probably be annoying to have to adjust it every time he had to shower at someone else's house. Or bend his head low to fit. It was something Tweek had never had to think twice about.

Craig reached for the shampoo and poured a liberal amount, directly from the bottle, onto Tweek's head. Before he had a chance to protest, Craig worked his fingers into Tweek's wet hair.

"That feels really nice," Tweek admitted. He allowed himself to lean against Craig and enjoy the massage.

"Good."

Tweek bit the inside of his cheek. As wonderful as it felt, he couldn't shake an uneasy guilt that had curled in his belly. His nude belly. Tweek let his eyes flutter open briefly.

Craig's skin was fair, but not quite as pale as his own. If it had been closer to summertime, Tweek would have no doubt been surprised to see some color in Craig's legs, sun-kissed skin that stopped abruptly where the hemlines of his cargo shorts or T-shirts fell, but instead, he was stuck with the creamy homogeneity of Craig's bare flesh. A faint dusting of dark hair ran the length of his legs, his thighs - sparser where they met his trunk, but dark and thick where…

He shut his eyes again, convincing himself that he was worried about soap, and trying to keep his mind off the fact that they were both fully naked, half-erect, and drunk.

"Mmkay, rinse that out," Craig instructed. Their contact broke when Tweek turned away to hide his flushed face and rinse the suds from his hair. When he turned around, Craig was lathering shampoo into his own dark locks.

Tweek stepped up to him again, hands held high, and Craig had to lean forward so Tweek could thread his fingers into the suds. They squelched under his touch. Tweek didn't particularly like the sound.

"You're right," Craig said, "that does feel really good."

"It'd probably feel b-better if you didn't have to hunch over like this," Tweek answered, a little sheepish as he worked.

Craig grunted. "Better view."

Tweek pulled away at the comment and Craig looked up, grinning and wiping away some suds from his forehead. "Can you like, not?"

A small chuckle and a shake of the head from Craig. "Oh, come on. I was joking," he teased as he righted himself. Tweek watched his lean muscles move as Craig finished rubbing down his scalp. "Mostly."

"Craig."

"No, you're right," Craig said. He took a step toward Tweek and the stream of water to catch Tweek in his arms. Tweek felt the suds being washed away from Craig's hair as they rolled onto his back and shoulders. Craig pressed a kiss to the side of Tweek's neck. "This is way too good of a moment to ruin."

He linked his arms around the small of Craig's back and they stood under the hot water together for a while, silent and enjoying the intimacy of the shared moment. Tweek felt like he was in a dream. Though typically his dreams involving Craig were less… _literally_ wet and steamy.

Craig was the first to step out of the shower. Tweek hung back a moment to collect himself before shutting the shower down, and when he emerged, Craig had a large, fluffy towel stretched out for him. He stepped into it. The fabric was warm and soft against his reddened skin as Craig wrapped him up, and Tweek earned a kiss pressed firmly to his forehead for his patience.

He wasn't quite lucid enough to be fearful that they had woken anyone else in the house up, so Tweek set off toward Craig's bedroom clad in only his towel. Craig hurried in behind him.

"Do you really take your showers that hot every time?" Craig asked as he thumbed through his closet.

"Yeah," Tweek answered, exhaustion setting in at the corners of his mind. He began to towel off his damp skin. "Why?"

"I'm pretty sure I heard somewhere that it's actually bad for you."

The towel wasn't dry enough to do much for Tweek's hair so it went over the back of Craig's desk chair. "I like it though." He crawled under the nest of blankets after that and tried to sort them out while lying down - it was a tangled mess, but Tweek got situated so that both his toes and shoulders had some cover.

"Um. You don't want any pajamas?" Craig asked. He was holding up a pair of athletic shorts and a couple T-shirts. Tweek turned to look at him.

"No."

He found his favorite pillow on Craig's bed and hugged it to his chest, curling his legs around it and reminding himself that he was in safe hands, that he wanted this, and that he had to _trust Craig_. Craig, who was standing - gawking, really - with a towel around his waist at the other end of the bedroom. "Well, come on. This pillow isn't as warm as your l-lumpy ass."

That seemed to snap Craig out of his daze. He grinned and shook his head, but his movements were still reserved as he made his way toward the bed. "You're really okay with this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Tweek felt the bed dip as Craig climbed in beside him.

"Are you?" Tweek asked, turning his head to look at Craig's face. He couldn't see much in the dark.

"Well… yeah, I just thought…"

"You're doing it again," Tweek mumbled as Craig's arms wound around him.

"Sorry."

Tweek was the one that kissed first, and he did so pointedly, as if staking a claim on his territory. Craig kissed him back, though Tweek was keenly aware that his movements were deliberate and gentle, like he wasn't trying to push Tweek too hard too quickly, and that only served as reason more to wind his fingers into Craig's wet hair and make sure that Craig was aware that Tweek was _very much_ committed to this. He pressed his hardon into Craig's thigh and raked his teeth on Craig's lower lip.

Mm. That got his attention. Craig brought his hand up to Tweek's shoulder and pressed him back down on his side of the bed. Tweek was about ready to protest that they weren't done - _hell, that they hadn't even started_ \- but Craig was on him before Tweek could formulate the words.

Craig was kissing at the hollow of his jaw. His breath was ragged against Tweek's skin and he could feel the flutter of Craig's eyelashes, the tickle of some damp, stray hair here and there, between Craig's calloused hands exploring his body. Tweek let his inhibitions go. He didn't want to be plagued with doubt or worry because all that seemed to do was push Craig away. But he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing either, and his motivations for their drunken, horny adventure weren't exactly stemming from the right place. Tweek knew that. But he'd accepted that he wanted this. Desperately.

And he wanted Craig to know it in a way that words couldn't quite explain.

He let out a breathy moan as Craig scraped his teeth against his collarbone, bringing one of his knees up to coax Craig's leg between his own. Craig obliged. The weight was heavy on his thigh and stomach. Tweek's breath hitched, and then Craig was back to greedily probing his mouth with tongue.

The muscles of Craig's back were warm under Tweek's fingers. He liked the way they moved, gentle ripples when Craig adjusted himself to keep from putting too much weight on Tweek's body beneath him. He thought he should probably say something, but what, he couldn't decide on. Nothing seemed quite right - too romantic, too silly, too off-handed that might break the mood - so Tweek instead tried to focus on what to do with his body, how to roll his hips in a way that made Craig grunt, low and throaty, the way that Tweek liked. He pressed his knees into either side of Craig's thighs and tilted his head back to break their kiss.

Craig was looking down at him. His lips were parted and Tweek couldn't read his expression beyond that. Tweek turned his face away and drew in a shuddering breath, running the tips of his fingers down Craig's back until they came around to his sides. He gripped at Craig's hips and pulled Craig flush against himself, arched to meet him halfway. They both grunted.

Tweek felt Craig's forehead press against his shoulder, and a hand come between them to situate their erections so that with each rocking movement, Tweek had to hold onto an unsteady moan. His fingers tingled, face hot, as Craig guided them for a while.

"Hah," Tweek whined. His back went stiff and he moaned, but the pillow that he'd tried to stifle himself into didn't quite catch the sound.

Craig chuckled but he wasn't in much better shape. "Shh," he managed, lips against skin. Craig resituated himself and brought his free hand up to press over Tweek's mouth. "Don't want to wake my parents up."

Tweek steadied his breathing and nodded. "Sorry," he whispered into Craig's palm.

"Don't be. I like it."

Tweek snorted and bucked his hips against Craig's to show that he wasn't interested in bantering. Craig cracked a smile and traded his hand against Tweek's mouth for his own lips, and Tweek found that to be a sufficient catch for his breathy crows.

He wasn't sure he would last much longer like this. Craig wasn't paying any attention to the way that he was kissing anymore, eyes closed and focused on how their erections rubbed against one another in his hand, so Tweek nipped at Craig's lip. That brought him back for a moment. Their rhythm slowed. Tweek's toes curled.

Craig paused for a moment and cleared his throat quietly. He wasn't looking at Tweek directly, instead his eyes were cast off toward the rest of his bedroom.

"Did you want to… um…"

Tweek couldn't help but snicker into the few inches between their faces at how shy Craig was being. He found it to be endearing, very different than the Craig he had come to know so well. "Hm?"

Craig shook his head to steady himself. "Did you want to like, actually fuck tonight?"

"Oh." He hadn't exactly been expecting that. "I mean… sure. If you w-want to."

Craig leaned back on his knees. Tweek didn't need the bedroom to be lit to know there was a bright blush on his cheeks, and Tweek was sure Craig knew he was flushed just as badly.

"Hang on. I have some… stuff."

Tweek propped himself on his elbows as Craig leaned over to his nightstand and started to rummage through its contents. He has half expecting him to come up with a packed pipe, with how often Craig went to it for smoking supplies, but he brandished a bottle instead.

He didn't have to ask what it was - Craig explained that it was a lubricant - but Tweek had already assumed from a brief flashback of that stupid "instructional" video that Craig had sent him. Tweek swallowed and shut his eyes to calm his nerves.

"We don't have to," Craig added, antsy and sheepish, "I mean, this is great already-"

"No," Tweek interrupted. He laid back down against his pillow and stared up at Craig. "It's fine. I want to."

Craig made his way back between his legs and Tweek tracked him carefully. He bent to press a kiss to the top of Tweek's propped knee.

"You can tell me to stop," Craig said. "If you don't like it."

Tweek didn't say anything at that, just waited until Craig opened the bottle with an awkward click to empty some of its contents into his hand.

"Gah! That's c-cold," Tweek hissed, his back arching as Craig pressed his hand between his legs.

"Yeah, sorry. I probably should've worked it a bit," Craig whispered. He'd paused, waiting for Tweek to relax some before continuing.

"Aren't you supposed to be an expert on this?" Tweek accused half-jokingly.

Craig chuckled and tossed his head. "Right. Because I've had _so much sex_. You're the one that's been spending time with Kenny - you should be the expert here."

"Now is _not_ the time to be jealous," Tweek chided.

"I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

Craig crooked two of his fingers and Tweek stiffened as they pressed against his ass. He momentarily contemplated reconsidering, but forced himself to relax after a deep breath. He could do this.

It wasn't so bad at first. He had to wiggle around a bit to find a comfortable position so Craig could indulge himself, and Tweek was struck with the realization that Craig was much more prepared for this moment than Tweek had thought he would be. Then again, Tweek wasn't so sure what he could expect from Craig anymore. The feeling of Craig's fingers inside him forced Tweek to focus on trying to relax - it was awkward, and his body seemed to reject the touch as foreign, but if he shut his eyes and just _breathed_ , he thought he could convince himself that it could be some degree of enjoyable.

Well, Craig seemed to be enjoying himself. Tweek snuck a few glances under heavy-lidded eyes at him, crouched between Tweek's thin, propped knees. He looked determined, interested, looking for subtle reactions from Tweek's body that - oh.

 _Oh_.

Tweek shivered, his back arching, and he was almost distracted through the shock by Craig's low hum of accomplishment. "Yeah?"

It was all he could do to let out a little squeak in agreement. Craig grinned, almost shark-like, and nuzzled the side of his head into Tweek's knee. Tweek righted it, forgetting momentarily that he had to keep tabs on his extremities. Craig pulled his fingers away and Tweek watched - a little grossed out - when he wiped the excess lube off his hand onto the bedsheets. The emptiness inside him was almost as jarring as the initial penetration. Craig made a grab for the bottle again.

"You sure you want to do this?" Craig asked quickly. He was already pouring some of the weirdly viscous liquid into his hand.

Tweek nodded, then swallowed against a dry throat, because, well, Craig's dick was a lot bigger than a few fingers. "Yeah. I do."

Craig leaned over him, one hand at his crotch, the other braced against the pillow next to Tweek's face, and pressed a reassuring kiss to Tweek's lips. Tweek had to arch backward to accommodate their position. His hips ended up propped against Craig's thighs, legs sprawled awkwardly to the sides (he ended up crossing his ankles behind Craig's ass because, hey, that seemed like the more attractive thing to do) and Tweek gripped Craig's forearm in an unsteady hand.

It didn't happen all at once. Craig took his time, and for that, Tweek was thankful, because the sensation was almost unbearable. He felt like he might split in two.

"That hurts," Tweek bit back, tense and squeezing Craig's arm.

"Sorry." Craig touched their foreheads together and Tweek sucked down a shared breath that hung between them. "Relax. I'll go slow."

Craig paused long enough for Tweek to collect himself. _Breathe_. He gave a curt nod for Craig to continue easing into him. There was a faint worry that Craig probably thought he looked dumb, his face screwed up in something between discomfort and pain, but Tweek didn't let himself hang onto that for very long. And then Craig eased back.

A subtle, disjointed rhythm was established after that. Tweek did the best he could to meet Craig halfway given the circumstance, but trying not to tense up occupied most of his… oddly blank mind.

He was so focused that he didn't have the opportunity to worry about anything else.

After a couple dragging thrusts Tweek tossed his head back. It didn't hurt nearly as much as he had anticipated. Still, getting comfortable with the sensation felt like a lofty goal but being this close with someone, with _Craig_ , felt like an achievement in itself. Tweek felt his breath hitch against his will as a warm, tingling feeling started to spread in his belly. Okay _that_ , that felt good, whatever that was. Craig's fingers were digging into Tweek's hip, his other arm braced steady on the mattress as he worked. Tweek wondered if it would be weird to touch himself but the whole thing was weird enough that he made up his mind and curled his fingers around the base of his shaft.

And then it was over. Just as quickly as it had begun.

Craig pulled away, sheepishly trying to hide a smile and batting away the hair that had fallen into his face, while Tweek's eyes widened and his grip softened on both the arm he'd death gripped, and his own erection.

"That's it?" Tweek asked, a little louder than he'd intended it.

"Aw, hell." Craig chuckled and rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. "I, um… Sorry. I guess that was a little fast, wasn't it?"

Tweek balked and got his elbows under him, content to have control of his legs again. "I d-didn't mean it like that."

Craig dragged his eyes over the bedding. "Gotta work on my stamina, huh?" He came forward again and Tweek, a bit baffled, just watched Craig run his fingers up Tweek's erection. "I'll do better next time. Promise."

"O-Okay."

Craig bent low to take the head of Tweek's dick in his mouth. His body still felt charged and on edge from the sex, but the sensation of Craig's tongue was (slightly) more familiar and Tweek was back to stifling his throaty hitches into Craig's pillows. He felt achy in a way he'd never experienced, almost like he'd strained a muscle lifting heavy boxes at work, and now those muscles were quivering with empty discomfort. It didn't take long for Craig to pull an orgasm out of him.

"Better?" Craig asked, his voice cutting through the aftershock.

"Mm." Tweek allowed himself a moment to melt into the mattress and slow his breathing. "Yeah."

He gave Tweek's hand a squeeze and reached for a box of tissues on his bedside table. Tweek sat up and rubbed the side of his head, still dazed, before getting his feet under him.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," Tweek grunted. He picked up the soggy towel off the ground and wrapped it around himself before slipping into the hall. His heart was still thrumming in his ears, limbs feeling like jello at his sides, but he wanted to clean up a bit before nodding off.

When he came back from a lengthy survey of himself in the vanity mirror and many sullied tissues, Craig was asleep. Tweek stood for a moment and traded his weight between each foot as he took in Craig's sleeping frame. He wasn't quite sure where to pin down the source of the emotion, but Tweek felt the start of tears prickling at the back of his eyes. He climbed into bed.

* * *

He woke with a start. Tweek blinked blearily as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings, straining against the sunlight streaming into the room, and it hit him that he was alone in Craig's bedroom. A quick glance at the ancient analogue clock on the bedside table revealed that he'd slept away the entire morning. And a good chunk of the afternoon. His eyes felt puffy, his head still fuzzy from the drinks the night prior and the ensuing dehydration, and his body felt… sore. Raw.

Tweek stretched, bony fingers reaching toward wiggling toes beneath the blankets. Craig was likely at work, he told himself. When exactly they had fallen asleep last night, Tweek couldn't remember with certainty, but he knew that Craig was probably tired on the job. That had seemed to become a common fixture of their Friday nights thus far. He wondered briefly if Craig regretted staying up so late with him. The energy drinks Craig tossed back so easily probably weren't doing wonders for his health - Tweek was responsible for that.

After twisting around the bed for a while, he steeled himself with the fact that he should tell his parents where he was. They knew he'd be out for the night, but with the sun starting to set outside, checking in with them was in his best interest. Lest they call Craig's parents. The thought of having to answer to the Tuckers still naked in their son's bed filled him with a sense of dread.

He found his phone in the pocket of his crumpled jacket. Tweek wasted no time climbing back into bed and wrapping himself up again to combat the chilly air. A quick message to placate a worried text from his mom was sent, explaining that he was still at Craig's and would likely be there a while longer, but Tweek wasn't sure if he really wanted to be. It felt foreign laying in Craig's bed without him. Weirder still to take in all the trinkets and posters alone. Time seemed to stand still. But getting up meant having to fetch his clothes from the bathroom - he needed to pee, too - and that wasn't a risk Tweek was quite willing to take.

He'd dozed off for a bit. The sound of the door clicking open drew him from a light slumber. Tweek looked up from his position pressed firmly into the pillows and found Craig wrestling out of his jacket.

"Hey." Craig looked tired - there were dark circles under his eyes as he pushed the door shut behind him, and a subtle slouch in his stance.

"How was work?" Tweek asked. He cleared his throat so his voice wouldn't be so strained against the phlegmy sleep still clinging there.

Craig shrugged candidly, a stupidly wide smile blooming on his face. Tweek watched as he peeled off his socks on his way over to the bed. "Boring," Craig admitted. He settled onto the mattress and reached a hand out to ruffle Tweek's messy hair. "Unloaded some trucks. A guy almost fell off the damn forklift, which I guess is kinda interesting."

Tweek startled a bit at that. "What?"

"Yeah," Craig continued. He withdrew his hand to run it through his own hair, grimacing a bit. "He got written up, too. Can't have any fun after 'management'," he provided a sarcastic air quote with his fingers, "found out we were doing donuts in the parking lot after it snowed."

He sniffed and turned away. "Didn't realize you had so much f-free time on your hands."

A small chuckle came from Craig. "We really don't."

"You're careful though, right?" Tweek pressed. The thought of Craig falling off a forklift was horrifying enough, but being crushed under a terrifyingly large industrial machine while fucking around in the early morning snowfall was even harder to think about.

"Yeah, yeah. Bend with your legs, not your back," Craig dismissed easily.

Tweek side-eyed him warily. "And you're still not sure if you have health insurance?"

Craig let out a playful groan at Tweek's persistence, eventually craning himself close to Tweek, eyes heavy-lidded and soft. "Can we not talk about work right now?"

"All right," he relented. Tweek let Craig get comfortable in his work clothes. He was sprawled out awkwardly across the blankets but seemed comfortable enough in his well-worn jeans and baggy sweatshirt. "You look tired."

"I could really use a nap," Craig agreed. "Did you have anything planned today?"

Tweek shook his head and tried to sidle up to Craig, but still remain under the blankets enough to keep his bare skin warm and out of sight.

"No work?"

"Not 'til tomorrow."

"Good," Craig announced. He wormed his arms around Tweek's middle and ghosted a breathy sigh against his shoulder. Tweek squirmed for a moment, adjusting to Craig's cold hands on his belly. "I was hoping you'd still be here when I got back."

"Yeah. Um, Craig? You're p-pushing on my bladder," Tweek whined.

"Oh. Sorry." He sat up briefly so Tweek could twist around, but Tweek didn't resituate himself in Craig's grasp, instead eyeing the bedroom door.

"Can you go get my clothes?" he asked sheepishly.

Craig paused to contemplate the request. "I can't hold you hostage, then."

"Craig."

Another one of Craig's infuriating smiles. "Why didn't you just put on some of mine?" he asked as he ran his eyes over Tweek's (barely) covered body.

"I didn't know what's d-dirty and what's clean," Tweek argued, starting to fuss.

"What, a sniff test is too good for you?" Craig continued to tease.

Tweek rolled his eyes and tried to convey his exasperation at Craig's lazy nonchalance. "You're gross, you know that?"

Craig hummed happily. "Never denied as much."

"Come on, Craig. Please? I've had to pee for like, two hours."

"Mmkay."

That was enough to get Craig up and moving. Tweek shifted from under the blankets, rolling his fingers to keep himself occupied until Craig came back with his clothes in a bundled heap. They were set on the bed. Tweek snatched up his underwear first, hurrying into them and knowing that Craig was watching him too intently to be anything but predatory. Dressed, Tweek cast a quick and pointed _thank you_ over his shoulder and disappeared into the hall.

When he was finished doing his business and returned, Tweek didn't get back into bed right away. Craig had discarded his jeans and was flipping through the channels on the television lazily in his boxers.

"How are you feeling?" Craig asked, looking up to find the source of Tweek's hesitance.

"Mm," Tweek idled. The right words to describe what was going through his mind didn't come to him immediately, so he busied himself with climbing over Craig's outstretched legs to resume the comfortable position he'd held for the better part of an entire day. "Good? I guess?"

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Craig said.

Tweek took his time bedding down and came to a rest curled on his side. "Um." He wasn't sure how to proceed - it was more than a little embarrassing. "Achy?"

Craig arched an eyebrow and let that serve as his intent for Tweek to elaborate.

He huffed in irritation but decided not to hide it. "My ass hurts, mostly."

Craig made a face and a small o-shape with his mouth, looking toward the television screen for guidance. None was given. It was almost funny in a way - Tweek was starting to see more and more of the Craig that seemed to be at a loss for words. "I didn't mean for it to… hurt."

"I know."

He watched Craig gather his hands - flecked with bits of dirt and dry skin at the fingertips - in his lap.

"It was good, though," Tweek comforted quietly, a small attempt at trying to ease Craig's uncertainty. All he received for his effort was another quick glance from Craig, still unsure on how to proceed. "I l-liked it."

Craig blushed. So did Tweek, and he couldn't quite shake the boyish timidness of the exchange. "That's good, then," Craig said gently.

Tweek made a muffled noise of agreement and buried his face into the fabric of Craig's sweatshirt. The scent was uniquely him, somehow more pronounced than the pillows and bedding beneath them - sweat, work, exhaust, outdoors, cigarettes… Craig's fingers found their way into Tweek's hair again.

"So what was going on last night?" Craig's voice broke through the buzz of the television and Tweek's wandering thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, before we, you know, had sex. When you were at the park," he explained, a bit disjointed, as if he was hesitant for the answer.

"Oh." _Um_. That. Tweek forced out all the breath in his lungs and tried to organize his thoughts. Yesterday felt distant in a cringe-inducing kind of way. "Identity crisis?" Tweek guessed. "I didn't know you liked girls too."

"You don't?" Craig asked.

"I mean, I don't think so. I guess I haven't r-really thought too much about it."

Craig fell silent for a few beats and Tweek thought he understood what he really meant. "It doesn't mean I like you any less," Craig assured.

Tweek shuffled his bare feet.

"Was that what you were worried about?"

"A little, yeah," Tweek admitted to Craig's sweatshirt.

Another bout of silence made its way between them but it wasn't as gut-wrenching as Tweek would have thought. Not with Craig still petting his hair and thinking critically, albeit tiredly, under him. He wondered if all relationships were this difficult to navigate verbally. "If Kenny has ever been right about anything," Craig started slowly, "it's that liking someone doesn't have to be complicated. I know I like you - that's all that matters."

"But you're not like, curious? About girls?" Tweek continued to prod.

Craig chuckled, a low rumbled from his chest that vibrated in Tweek's brain. "I'm curious about everything. That's why we have the internet."

Tweek glanced up to eye Craig warily at his comment.

"I know telling you not to worry is like telling the sun not to shine. But really," Craig insisted. "This is all I want right now. I'm happy. I just want you to be happy too."

A small sigh of relief escaped Tweek's lips as he settled his head back into Craig's lap. He turned his face toward the television, placated, and threaded his fingers into Craig's. "I trust you," Tweek replied.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Not much had really changed between them. Tweek thought that was weird. Or maybe, he didn't. Craig was just as outgoing and touchy behind closed doors, and just as reserved in the presence of others. It was still comfortably familiar. Tweek wasn't sure if something should have changed between them, but at the same time, the fact that nothing had made him relax about the whole thing.

Sex.

Wow, okay. That was a big step. Huge, at least in Tweek's mind. Thinking about it too much made him shiver, but with what exactly, he couldn't pin down. Giddiness? Excitement? Something like that, wedged in between feelings of _uncertainty_ and _not knowing_ , and somehow, _dirty_.

It wasn't like Tweek had been spoonfed anti-sex propaganda since he was a child. In fact, his parents had been fairly open about the topic, and surprisingly, so had their educational system. The feelings weren't stemming from shame. It wasn't quite as profound or deep as that, but rather, it was knowing that he was doing something completely private. Something for only him and Craig. It was like keeping another secret.

Tweek had a hard time reconciling the mundanity of a typical school week with this secret. At least everyone was gearing up for winter break, so there was a suspended headiness and pressing urgency in the air, in between the dragged feet to the classrooms whose teachers wanted to load up their students with one last round of homework-quiz-exam. He and Craig hadn't had much time yet to talk about their weekend together amidst the flurry. But it was already Tuesday and Tweek didn't have to work, so Craig had offered to drive him home. The opportunity to canvass that "next step" they had taken was here, and yet, Tweek found himself fidgeting and anxious outside Craig's classroom, running over the conversation in his head a dozen and a half ways before he could even open his mouth.

"You ready to go?" Craig asked as he slipped out behind the heavy classroom door. He was already done up in his winter jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and looking eager to get out of school.

"Yeah."

"Thanks for waiting - I'm surprised she actually let me make up that quiz."

Tweek chuckled. "You lucked out on that one," he said.

"For real, though. I'm kinda hungry. Did you want to stop by Taco Bell before going to your house?" Craig asked as they headed off down the hall.

Tweek tilted his head back. He'd probably be more comfortable with a belly full of hot, cheap burritos anyway. Molten cheese did wonders for his nerves. "Sounds great."

Most of the students had cleared out of the parking lot. Tweek always thought the expanse of white snow looked out of place when juxtaposed against the bright blue sky like that, sun shining bright like it was summertime. He almost preferred it to be cloudy in the winter.

Craig spun his keys in his fingers, grinning from ear to ear. Tweek threw his book bag in the back seat and settled into the passenger side. Craig turned the key in the ignition, but the car didn't start under his touch.

"That d-doesn't sound good," Tweek said, glancing over to the dashboard.

"She takes a little coaxing when it's this cold out," Craig assured. He tried it a second time - the engine caught briefly, but it didn't turn over. "Shit."

Tweek started to worry his lip as Craig messed around with his keys and alternated between pressing the gas pedal and checking for any sign of life in his car. Eventually, Craig got out and lifted the hood. Tweek followed close behind.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking at. Cars - machines in general - weren't anything he had experience with, but he gleaned from Craig's stoic expression and pinched lips that the outlook probably wasn't good.

"Is the battery dead?" Tweek asked, attempting to help troubleshoot.

Craig frowned. "Dash lights turn on, so no."

"Oh." Tweek stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Could it be low? Like, not enough to t-turn the car on all the way?"

"That's not how cars work," Craig muttered quickly. He was running over some worn wires that came off the engine block with steady fingers - they came away blackened with something like dirt or soot.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Tweek turned away to watch a few students lagging at their cars and let Craig do his thing.

After a few more minutes of Craig fumbling under the hood, then getting in his car to try to get it to start, then coming back out with increasing frustration, a _God dammit_ came out that was sharp enough to make Tweek physically wince.

"What's wrong?" Tweek pressed, stepping in close to Craig.

"I don't fucking know." Craig slammed the hood down and glared at the ground.

"Do you want me to c-call someone?" Tweek asked quietly.

Craig rubbed his forehead, leaving a dark stripe of dirt there, before pulling his hat off completely. He didn't seem to have heard Tweek's question.

"I can get my mom to bring some jumper cables," he offered.

"Not gonna help," Craig hissed. "I told you already. It's not the battery." He kicked at the front wheel, jaw set, and retreated back into the car. Tweek watched him rummage around in his glove box and procure a dingy manual, more than a little put off at being snapped at.

He swallowed and shuffled his feet outside the car for a bit, wondering what exactly he could do to help, but Tweek came up empty handed. It was cold out. He just wanted to be home. But Tweek knew that Craig probably felt much the same, judging by how irritated he looked.

A few more minutes went by before Craig tossed the manual haphazardly into the back seat. He came out of the car on his phone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I checked that already. No, it's not out of gas. I'm not fucking stupid. I told you, it's just not starting. Did that, too. If I do it again then I'm going to flood the engine. Look, can you please just tow my car back home? I can't look at it here. Yeah, I'm at school."

He'd never heard Craig sound like that, his tone somewhere between pleading and livid, as he spoke to (who Tweek assumed was) his dad. After a couple more half-shouted sentences, Craig shoved his phone into his pocket and groaned.

"Hey," Tweek started, nudging Craig's side. "It's gonna be okay."

Craig sent Tweek a glance, brows knitted and still frowning. "No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is. We'll get it fixed. It's not the end of the world," Tweek said. He wasn't sure if his attempt at consoling Craig would work, but he at least had to try.

A snort came from Craig. "Right. Like I have the money to replace a busted transmission or engine, or whatever the fuck is wrong with this piece of _shit_ ," he growled. Tweek yelped in surprise when Craig brought his fist down on the hood of the car. The cracking sound was loud enough to make some kids look over from the next lot. Craig didn't appear to notice, or really care if he did.

Um. "Well, you d-don't know if it's gonna be an expensive fix, and… and I could help you out, if you want, it can't be-"

"How the fuck are we supposed to get to Denver this weekend?" Craig rumbled. "Why does this shit always happen to me right before I'm about to do something awesome? For fuck's sake! This is ridiculous. Why can't anything just go right for once?"

Tweek toed the ground and listened to Craig mutter to himself. The rant went on until Tweek reached a twitchy hand out to catch Craig's sleeve. He turned, still caught up in his angry tirade, but his expression softened for a moment.

"Can we go wait inside?" Tweek asked meekly.

Craig swallowed, taking a moment to collect himself. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

Tweek collected his bag and was thankful to be indoors and warm. They took a seat on some benches just inside the school. Craig had taken out his phone and was turning to Google for answers while Tweek watched him closely.

"It's gonna be okay," he assured.

"Can you please stop?" Craig responded, looking up from his hunched position. "I know you're trying to help. And I appreciate that. But I just need to think, okay?"

Tweek was quiet at that. "O-Okay."

Trying to keep the sullen acerbity out of his mind was tough after that. Tweek's stomach had turned sour, moreso than it had been at the prospect of meandering through all the unsaid but necessary topics they still needed to discuss, but he did as he was told and held his tongue. They sat in silence until Craig got a call. Nearly an hour had passed.

Craig tossed his head in the direction of the front doors and Tweek hurried out behind him. Mr. Tucker was standing outside his pickup truck, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at the two of them as they made their way over. Tweek didn't miss the squinted look of disapproval that was sent his way. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder and tried to appear interested in staring at the ground while Craig argued with his dad about how to secure the tether between the two vehicles.

He wished he'd walked home instead.

"You really need to take better care of your things," Craig's dad chided.

"Seriously?" Craig hissed back. "I spend more time taking care of this car than you've spent taking care of me. Don't tell me that-"

"Yeah? You think I'll be coming to your rescue every time you're in a little spat of trouble? What are you going to do in the real world, huh? You're in such a hurry to grow up all the damn time - you've got to learn how to act like it."

"Je-e-esus. What do you expect me to do? Call a tow truck? Rack up three hundred bucks on your insurance for that? 'Cuz I can do that next time," Craig shot off.

Craig's dad shook his head. Tweek was sure the argument would have escalated further had he not been around, but either way, it was uncomfortable as hell to witness.

"Just get in the damn truck, Craig."

Craig rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door. He hesitated before getting in, however, and Tweek noticed why. There wasn't a center console in the truck, but rather a bench seat that sat three. Tweek felt panic rise in his throat at the thought of having to squeeze himself between Craig and his dad - literally putting himself in the middle of the two.

The situation didn't present itself though. Craig settled into the middle seat and awkwardly positioned his knees while Tweek climbed in after him.

"I'm a taxi service today, too, huh?" Craig's dad said as he opened the other door.

"Can you just lay off? It's freezing out. I'm not going to make my boyfriend walk home."

Tweek made himself as small as he could in the seat. Craig used the extra space to put more distance between him and his dad.

A heavy sigh left Craig's dad's lips. "Where does… _your_ _friend_ live?"

"N-Not too far from the playground. 17091 Bogue Street. The r-red house," Tweek forced out.

They set off without further acknowledgement. Tweek didn't think he'd ever been in a truck before - it felt weird, being so high up from the ground. He spent the short drive glancing into the side mirror at Craig's car trailing behind them and trying not to feel like a burden.

"This it?"

"Yeah, thanks," Tweek said quietly. He was quick to hop out, happy to be able to retreat into his house and relieve himself of the tension in that truck. Tweek gave Craig a curt _bye_ and hurried up the driveway.

His mom was in the kitchen when he got inside. She did a double take while Tweek took a few moments to collect himself on the doormat.

"You doing all right, sweetie?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," he answered.

"Do you want some coffee? I just brewed a pot," she offered, casting Tweek another look of concern.

"That'd be great," he admitted. The warm mug felt amazing on his cold fingers. "Craig's car broke down. His dad came. He d-drove me home."

"Oh? How's Thomas doing?"

Tweek shrugged and tried to look disinterested as he got out of his jacket. "I'm gonna go start my homework. Thanks for the coffee."

He spent the better part of an hour pacing in his room. The attempt did little to clear his head of Craig's curt words and the irritated grumblings of his dad. Logically, he knew it wasn't something to be upset over. Tweek focused on taking deep, steady breaths and telling himself that yes, Craig still loved him. That Craig was just stressed out. That he'd come to Tweek's defense when his dad had made him feel like a hindrance, and that showed Craig wasn't somehow upset with Tweek. With a fistful of hair and a long stare into the mirror, Tweek told himself that if he was really going to commit to his recent revelation about their relationship, he couldn't latch onto every negative moment and let it consume him. He wanted to be done with that.

His phone started to buzz in rapid succession. Tweek jumped, startled, and quickly took in the messages.

Craig: hey sorry about all that. I didnt mean to yell at you or anything

Craig: and sorry about my dad too hes kinda

Craig: idk

Craig: you know how he is

Craig: but I really am sorry tweek I shouldnt have told you to shut up

Tweek palmed his phone for a few moments and chewed his chapped lips.

Tweek: It's okay. I know how much you care about your car. I'd probably be upset too.

Craig: naw its not okay

Craig: but thanks

Tweek: But your dad is kind of a jerk.

Craig: ya tell me about it. He wont chill out about this

Craig: I had to shut the garage so hed stop trying to "talk to me about it like a man"

Craig: whatever that means

Tweek: Did you figure out what's wrong with your car?

Craig: no not yet I'm still making calls

Tweek: Okay.

Tweek: Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.

Craig: thanks :)

He set his phone aside and tried to focus on his geometry homework after that, but the words and numbers and equations wouldn't sit quite right in his brain. He moved through his subjects like that one by one between glances over to his phone, wondering whether Craig had figured anything out and if his dad had stopped yelling at him. As terrifying as it was for Tweek to deal with Mr. Tucker, he was lucky that he only had to deal with the occasional run in. But that was Craig's whole life.

Tweek glanced over to the television set beside his desk, then to the rarely used Playstation on the unit. An idea struck him. He opened a tab on his laptop and surfed a few websites to see how much the console would go for with the rare game he had installed on it.

The lowest listing was around six hundred dollars.

He chewed his lip a moment, but he didn't have the opportunity to look any further into it before he was called down to dinner.

His mom had made a pork roast with mashed potatoes. Tweek made sure to make a show of eating it - his parents still hadn't relaxed on ensuring he was getting his fill - between casual conversation.

"Would you and dad be mad if I sold my Playstation?" Tweek asked suddenly.

His mom looked up from her plate. "Why would you want to sell your Playstation? Do you need some money?"

"Kinda," he said. "But not for me. Craig thinks it's going to cost a lot of money t-to fix his car. I want to help him out. As a Christmas present."

"That's really sweet of you, Tweek. It's yours, so you can do what you want with it," she said with a gentle smile.

"I rarely play it," Tweek continued. "Actually, I think Craig probably plays it more than I do. I just wanted to ask first because, well, I know you guys were really excited when you got it for me for my birthday."

"If that's what you want to do, that's fine with me. Make sure you finish your potatoes."

Tweek grinned and pulled out his phone. He made an account on a personal listing website and put up an advertisement for the console, price set at six hundred, but negotiable. There was an offer to buy before he even finished his meal.

Tweek: Any progress?

Craig: yeah actually

Craig: gotta replace the alternator and some spark plugs

Craig: probably the battery too :(

Tweek: I don't know what that means.

Craig launched into a long winded explanation of what parts did what, and why. Tweek thought he should probably have paid more attention in his Home Ec classes when they talked about cars - all the complicated words and intricacies went right over his head. Still, he couldn't help but be impressed with Craig's knowledge on the matter.

Tweek: How much is it going to cost?

Craig: well I can get the parts but idk if I trust myself to do it

Craig: my dad said he would help but

Craig: denver might be a problem. I dont think hell let me go if I ask him for help

Tweek: How come?

Craig: gotta start "taking better care of my things"

Tweek: What if you got it done at a shop?

Craig: thats gonna cost like 700 bucks dude

Craig: not paying that

Craig: Ill see if I can figure something out. Maybe my parents will let me borrow the truck

Craig: doubt it tho. They wont even let me borrow it for work :(((

He snorted to himself. Tweek didn't really blame Craig's parents for that, honestly.

Tweek: I'll see what I can come up with.

Craig: naw

Craig: Ill figure it out okay dont worry. Gonna get an estimate from a mechanic tomorrow

"Mom?" Tweek called as he pounded down the stairs to the living room. "Can you take me to the post office? I want to mail my Playstation."

She looked up from the book she was reading. "It can't wait until tomorrow?"

"The lady who wants t-to buy it wants to have if before Christmas," he explained.

"Okay. We'll swing by the shop so I can drop your father off some dinner."

"Thanks." Tweek headed back up to his room and collected the console and its cords, gingerly wrapping them around it so they fit neatly in his book bag. His mom was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a seran-wrapped plate and keys.

"I can't believe you got an offer on it so quick," she mused as they headed outside. "How much did you get for it?"

"Five-fifty," Tweek answered excitedly.

She looked surprised at that. "I didn't know Playstations are so expensive right now."

"This one's special," Tweek said. "It has a game on it you can't get anymore. It's called PT."

"Huh." She listened to him talk about how he'd held onto it, refusing to connect to the internet so he could keep the game, though Tweek didn't think she really understood the concept. He was grateful that she listened to him anyway.

* * *

He had a game plan. Tweek was excited - and a little nervous - at telling Craig what he'd done, and he'd run over how the moment would play out over and over as he'd laid in bed the night before. Gauging Craig's reaction wasn't the easiest thing to do though, but Tweek had a good feeling about it. He got up early the next day and had his dad give him a ride to school so Tweek could use the computer lab to print off a copy of the transaction before he ran into Craig that morning. A few texts were sent Craig's way as Tweek lounged around in the computer chairs, but he didn't get a reply.

The minutes ticked by closer to the start of their school day. From his vantage point, he could see the entrance to the school, but Craig wasn't anywhere to be seen in the throng of students milling from landing to locker bay. Tweek decided to call.

"Hello?" A sullen and groggy voice met him from the other line.

"Craig? Are you okay?" he asked a little panicked.

"Oh, fuck." The sound of rustling sheets came after that. "Shit. What time is it?"

Tweek bit back a smile before he answered. "School starts in fifteen minutes, dude."

"Dammit. I overslept. Thanks for waking me up!" Craig said. Tweek didn't get another word in before Craig hung up.

He resolved himself to hanging out at the entrance. Craig came rushing in, underdressed and clearly still bleary-eyed, only a minute after the bell rang and Tweek was happy to take the tardy to his first hour in exchange for the quick kiss pressed to his cheek. They received a quirked eyebrow from the receptionist in the office. It wasn't quite the right moment to give Craig the good news.

"That was f-fast. Did you run the whole way here?"

 _Huff huff huff_. "Yup."

The folded piece of printer paper didn't leave his sight through class. Tweek prefered to keep it in his hands, worrying it in the halls until the edges were soft and crinkled to the touch. He didn't want to embarrass Craig in front of everyone in the few minutes that their lunch periods overlapped either, and their single shared class had them splintered off into separate groups. Tweek was growing anxious playing the waiting game, but after school seemed to be Tweek's best opportunity to get Craig's full attention. He hoped that Craig didn't have too many more detentions to make up before their winter break kicked off - how would he plan to get home if his car wasn't fixed?

Craig was chatting with Token outside the front office when school let out. Paper clutched tightly to his chest, Tweek made his way over.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey." Craig still looked stressed out and, despite the hours that had passed, like he'd still just woken up. Tweek guessed that he was giving Token the bad news about having to cancel the trip because they both looked a little somber. "What's up?"

He took a deep breath and wedged himself between the two of them, offering Token an apologetic half smile. "Can I talk with Craig for a s-second?" Tweek asked with a tilt of his head toward the rest of the hallway. "Sorry. I just… It's important."

Token glanced between the two of them, brows knitted. He shrugged. "No, man. It's cool. I'll catch up with you in a bit," he said to Craig.

Craig looked confused - halfway between concerned and annoyed - by the sudden change in conversation. Before Craig could question him, Tweek rounded on his boyfriend.

"Do you have a PayBuddy?" Tweek asked quickly.

"Yeah." Craig's answer was slow, reserved. "Why? What's this about?"

Tweek handed him the folded piece of paper that he'd guarded so carefully all day.

"What's this?" Craig asked.

"Just look at it," Tweek insisted.

He watched, heart thrumming in his ears, as Craig unfurled the paper. It felt like an eternity before Craig looked back up at Tweek. His expression read even more confused.

"I sold my Playstation," Tweek explained.

Craig balked. "What? Why?"

Tweek bit down on his lip. This wasn't exactly how Tweek had planned the conversation in his head, but at the same time, he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about what this all meant. "It's five hundred fifty dollars. For your c-car."

Craig flickered his eyes between the paper and Tweek's eager expression. "You…"

"Yeah, I did," Tweek cut in excitedly. "You don't have to pay me back or anything. Merry Christmas."

There weren't any words or movement from Craig for a few beats. He simply stared at Tweek with his mouth open just a bit. The silence had Tweek beginning to shift uncomfortably, but Craig launched at him before Tweek could rescind the gesture. The embrace nearly knocked Tweek off his feet.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Craig practically shouted.

Tweek started to laugh. That earned him a plethora of poorly executed kisses pressed to his neck and cheek. Neither of them cared to pay mind to the eyes of passing students.

"I love you too," Tweek managed into Craig's shoulder. His clothes, though had likely spent a fortnight on a bedroom floor, were warm and comforting in touch and smell.

"You really didn't have to do that," Craig said, his lips at Tweek's temple.

"I'm excited to go to Denver with you. I wouldn't want to miss that."

Craig hugged him tighter. "I'll make sure you have the best time, okay? It'll be the funnest thing you've done. Like, ever."

Tweek chuckled. "Is funnest even a word?"

"It is now."

"Oh, thank God." A voice came from behind them and Craig and Tweek paused their intimate chucklings to glance over to the source. Token was standing a few feet away. He was shaking his head, arms crossed over his chest and smiling. "I thought you two were fighting again."

* * *

It felt like the last two months had been leading up to this. Tweek thought he would have been better prepared for this moment. Well, he should have been, anyway. Craig had texted him a half dozen times the night before asking if he was done packing yet - _I'll be there at ten o'clock sharp_ \- but Tweek hadn't the faintest clue what their weekend away would have in store for him. How many pairs of pants was he expected to bring? Would his jacket get wet from undoubtedly bailing out in the snow? Better bring two. Or three.

The contents of his wardrobe were strewn about the bedroom floor haphazardly. Toothbrush? Check. Deodorant? Got it. Six pairs of underwear? Just in case.

He was certainly excited. His parents had been just as enthused about the trip - Tweek had a feeling that they would put his time away to good use. Once, he might have been a little sad to think his parents would be happy having time apart from him. Now though, he was happy for them.

Was he expected to bring snow pants? He didn't think he even owned a pair that fit anymore. Tweek rooted around his dresser looking for an old, worn out pair of long underwear and a cozy undershirt or three or five to bring with him. That would have to suffice.

The blaring ringing of his cellphone interrupted his efforts. Shit - it was already five after ten.

"H-Hey! Craig," Tweek answered. He held the phone with one hand as he piled the assembled clothes and toiletries into his book bag with the other. It was full to nearly bursting.

"Hey, Tweek. We're outside," Craig said. Tweek took a brief moment to appreciate the candid tone of his boyfriend's voice before the stress of _I'm not ready I'm going to ruin everything hurrythefuckup_ returned.

"Yeah. So, hey, it's gonna b-be a minute," Tweek stalled. "I can't find my, uh… my toothbrush."

Craig paused for a moment. "Your toothbrush?"

Tweek inhaled sharply. _Dumb_. "Yeah."

"...Isn't it in your bathroom?" Craig asked suspiciously.

"Oh, yeah. Right. I should probably go check there."

A small chuckle came from the other end of the line as Tweek began to pull out all the contents of his book bag. He needed something bigger. There was a long forgotten gym bag stuffed somewhere in the back of his closet. He just needed to find it. "You're not done packing, are you?"

"Well, no," he said quickly. Tweek chewed his lip and dragged the rest of his closet into the middle of the floor, the phone cradled delicately between cheek and shoulder. "I'm… I'm mostly done. Give me like, five minutes."

"Hold up. I'll come help."

The dial tone met Tweek and he let his cellphone fall to the floor with a resigned sigh. He wished he'd gotten everything done sooner - procrastination wasn't exactly his strong suit - and there was still the slightest bit of worry that Craig would be frustrated after all those insistent text messages.

Fuck. Snow boots. Where the hell had he put those?

Craig rapped his fingers in Tweek's doorframe and Tweek looked up from his position crouched in the growing pile of disarray. Craig didn't look frustrated. He was grinning.

Tweek took a breath as his fingers closed over the old gym bag he'd been looking for. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I had to switch b-bags. I couldn't fit everything in my backpack."

Craig waived off his concern and waded through the clothes on the floor. "Are you planning to take your whole room with you?" he teased.

"Well…" Tweek looked at the bulging bag and puffed his cheeks. "I'd rather be prepared than not."

"That's fair. You find your toothbrush?"

"Yep."

Craig glanced toward the bedside table. "And your meds?"

"Got those too."

"Then how can I help?"

Tweek nudged the two bags toward Craig. "Can you put everything in the big one for me? I have to go find my b-boots," he said.

"Sure thing."

While Craig set to work, Tweek pounded down the stairs and scouted for the footwear in question, which ended up being in the back of the hall closet underneath the tote bags his parents dutifully brought to Whole Foods with them every weekend. He shook them free of caked dirt on the doormat before heading back up to the bedroom.

Craig looked proud of his handiwork. The bag was packed and he'd pushed the rest of the mess into a free corner of the room. "Phone charger?" he asked.

"Thanks." Tweek tore the plug out of the wall and shoved the cord into the pocket of his hoodie. "Token and Clyde aren't going to be mad at me?" he asked.

Craig cocked an eyebrow. "About what?"

Tweek shuffled his feet. "I'm making them wait."

"No," he assured. "No, Tweek. There's no real deadline."

"Oh." Tweek ran a hand through his hair and took another deep breath. He got to his knees and peeked into the bag to check its contents one last time. "Then why were you texting me so much about b-being on time?"

"Stan, Kyle, and Kenny are driving separately. I wanted to beat them to the hotel is all - I booked the damn rooms, we're getting the best one," Craig explained with a chuckle.

Tweek shook his head to hide a small smile. "Pretty sure you gotta be there for check in," he said.

"Yeah. You're probably right about that."

Tweek zipped up the bag and looked over to Craig, who was still kneeling on the carpet. A comfortable silence settled in at that and Tweek almost wished they could just stay there for the whole weekend instead of heading off on a snow-filled adventure.

"Hey, Tweek?" Craig broached after a few more beats.

"Yeah?"

Craig cocked his head to the side. His eyes were wide, gentle purplish rings under them marking late nights and early mornings. He looked a little tired - not too tired to be excited though. A smile started at the corner of his lips. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you. Like, for real."

A blush crept its way into Tweek's neck and cheeks. He looked down at his freshly packed bag and toyed with the curling carpet fibers under his fingers. "I love you, too." He felt warm.

Craig got to his feet after that and stretched, back cracking loud enough to make Tweek wince while he got his own feet under him.

"Did you bring anything nice to wear?" Craig asked, a welcome reprieve from the heaviness of his previous words.

Tweek shook his head. "No. Why?"

"Oh, you know. In case I want to take you out to dinner or something," Craig said.

He shifted a bit. "I can grab something quick."

"How about this?" Craig scooped up a green button down - the same one that Tweek had worn to Cartman's party all those weeks ago. "You looked nice that night."

"Thanks. Yeah, that works. Are j-jeans fine?" Tweek inquired.

"Should be."

Tweek took the shirt from Craig and folded it carefully into place. "I think we're all set, then."

"Mm." Craig closed the distance between them easily, looping his arm around Tweek's middle and burying his nose into hair. "Think we have time for a quickie?"

Tweek cleared his throat. "I think Token and C-Clyde are probably getting annoyed with how long this is taking," he said.

"You're probably right," Craig admitted with a laugh. He let go of Tweek and stooped down again. "Plenty of time for that later. I got your bag. Let's go."

"M-m-mkay," Tweek hummed.

They headed out together. Tweek cast his house one last glance as they pulled onto the street. There would be no opportunity to slip off to the park where they were going. No opportunity to wrap up in the warm blankets of his own bed. It was all going to be unfamiliar. Daunting. But he had Craig. And, admittedly, the rest of their motley crew of misfits. He was kind of looking forward to what kind of mess Kenny was likely to kick up too.

Tweek ended up curling into himself in the passenger seat and trying to nap. It was a smoother ride than he was used to - Craig's car wasn't catching and whirring and whining at every acceleration. Token and Clyde's idle chatter was white noise enough.

The ride was supposed to take an hour and a half, but with the extra time that had been afforded for Tweek to finish his packing, and a pit stop at a gas station for snacks and a piss break, they didn't end up arriving at the hotel until just before one. Tweek was the last one out of Craig's car in the snowy parking lot, legs stiff and head full of cotton, and he took his time bundling back into his winter coat. It was freezing out.

"Got everything?" Token asked as he skirted around the car. He had three long plastic boards tucked under his arm, a backpack hanging off his other shoulder. Tweek cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I got it. You need any help with that?"

"Naw, thanks though." He fell in line with Tweek. Craig and Clyde had already made off toward the entrance of the hotel. It looked inviting enough - tall brick spires giving way to a concrete overhang a few stories above, presenting a welcome shelter from the biting wind. Tweek hurried toward it, his own bag in tow.

"I, um… I don't have a snowboard," Tweek admitted off-handedly as they arrived at the entrance. Why was this just occurring to him now?

Token nodded soberly. "These are all mine. Craig asked me to bring some extras - Kenny doesn't have one either," he said.

"Oh." That was nice of him.

"Craig brought Ruby's, too. You know, in case this one's too big for you," Token added with a chuckle.

Tweek huffed. "How thoughtful," he drawled.

They came through the doors with a rush of warm air. The lobby was rustic, well lit with a fire and comfortable looking couches to one side. Craig was idling at the desk with some other guests waiting in line behind him. Clyde had found the rest of the group - Stan, Kyle, and Kenny, who had indeed arrived ahead of them - and was gesticulating wildly. Tweek winced at his excited voice which cut sharply through the otherwise calm lobby. They made their way over.

"Token, Tweek! You guys ready for a good time?" Kenny asked with a wide grin. He shook his bag which clanked with the telling sound of half-filled bottles of liquor.

"You know it," Token answered. "Got my hands on some Goldschlager. Figured it was worth the special occasion."

"No shit?"

"What's that?" Tweek asked.

"It's like Fireball," Craig interrupted as he returned to their group. He brandished a few key packets in his hand with a wink. "But it has gold in it."

"Real gold?" Tweek piqued.

Token nodded again. "Yup."

"C-Can you even eat that?"

"Well, I mean, they wouldn't put it in a drink if you couldn't," Token said.

"Pretty sure they put like, antifreeze in most light beers though," Stan cut in.

Tweek balked. "What?"

"Yeah, dude."

"Propylene glycol," Kyle corrected. "And it isn't actually bad for you to-"

"Bullshit. It says on the antifreeze bottle you can't drink it, so if it's in light beer, then-"

"Who the hell drinks light beer anyway?" Kenny interrupted with a laugh.

"Can we like, get going?" Craig asked, tossing his head in the direction of the elevator bay.

Between the seven of them, juggling the snowboards and bags wasn't entirely unmanageable. They squeezed into the car and ended up on the fourth floor under Craig's direction.

"Let's see… Um, I think we go left," Craig mused.

They turned down the hall. Craig started passing out the keys at that point - they had three rooms. Tweek and Craig were at the end of the hall. Farthest from the fire escape route, Tweek entertained momentarily. The other two rooms were across from them and closer to the elevators.

Craig shuffled the contents of his arms around, trying to keep everyone's attention. "All right, we'll catch the shuttle in an hour. Meet in the lobby?"

The rest of them didn't seem to hear Craig as they disappeared into their own rooms, so Tweek was left to silently shake his head and back down the hall.

"Let's just let them get settled in," Tweek offered.

Craig shrugged. "I'm going snowboarding with or without them."

"Pretty sure they'll b-be there too."

Craig shouldered into their room. As Tweek had expected, there was one bed. Of course there was. He took a deep breath and let a small smile grace his lips as he stepped around Craig's bags, now piled just inside the doorway. The view was nice. He could see the snow capped mountains in the early afternoon light. From inside the warm room, it didn't look so terribly cold out. Maybe he could watch them snowboard from his perch on the bed if he got a pair of binoculars - if only he'd thought to pack those - but he was also kind of looking forward to the adventure.

"You like it?" Craig asked.

"Yeah, it's nice." Tweek walked the length of the room and ran a hand along the dresser. His hand came away clean. No dust. That was a good sign. The flat screen mounted atop it didn't look dusty either.

Tweek craned his head around the back of the entertainment system. "It looks like we can hook up an Xbox to the TV."

"Way ahead of ya," Craig answered. He was stuffing his bags into the wardrobe. "Token brought his."

"Cool."

Tweek glanced over the lampshades beside the bed. Minor dust. Nothing to bat an eye at. He started to pull the pillows away from the bed next, then the covers.

Craig took notice of Tweek's poking around. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking the room," Tweek said softly.

"For what?"

Tweek shrugged. "You know, just to m-make sure it's clean."

Craig looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. "Let me know if you find anything," he said as he set to work unpacking the rest of his things.

"Will do."

The bed was clear of any weird stains or bugs, which was a relief. The linens felt clean under his fingers, but sterile in the same way the hospital beds had felt. He wished he'd brought one of his own blankets with him. Something to remind him of home. Snuggling up with Craig would have to do. Satisfied with the bed, Tweek began to scan the carpet for any sign of imperfection. He paced back in front of the television, then back into the entryway, and started toward the bathroom.

"Boo!"

Craig jumped out from behind the door to the bathroom, his hands up in the shape of pretend claws, a grin on his face. Tweek felt his heart jump into his throat as he stumbled backward. Craig advanced on him quickly and caught him around the middle before he hit the wardrobe.

"Not funny," Tweek pouted.

"Yes it was," Craig challenged into the fabric of Tweek's jacket. "It was super funny. You shoulda seen your face."

Tweek started to squirm in Craig's grasp. "Gotta make sure the bathroom is clean," he huffed.

"It is. I just checked it," Craig cooed.

Tweek didn't stop his squirming.

"You don't trust me?"

"Not particularly," Tweek mumbled.

Craig gave him a reassuring squeeze. "You told me you did. Last Saturday."

"I don't trust b-bathroom monsters that jump out and scare me."

Craig started to laugh again and clutched Tweek even tighter. "What do you take me for? The kind of guy that books his boyfriend a hotel full of bugs and dirt?" he asked pointedly.

Tweek was quiet for a moment. "...No."

"So you do trust me," Craig finished for him.

"Can I please just look? Humor me."

"Mmkay." Craig didn't let go of him completely. In fact, he guided Tweek to the bathroom, still held fast around the waist, and used his hip to nudge the lights on. "See? No bugs."

Tweek craned his neck over Craig's shoulder. "Can you lift the toilet lid up?" he asked.

Craig did as was instructed.

"And the shower curtain?" Tweek continued.

After a cursory glance at the exposed tiled shower, Tweek nodded in contentment.

"Good?"

"Yeah," Tweek answered behind a sigh. "Thanks."

"All right." Craig leaned down a bit and locked his arms at Tweek's thighs. With a quick grunt and sweeping movement, Tweek felt his feet leave the ground. "Then let's go christen those sheets," he said cheekily.

"Craig," Tweek protested, but he couldn't twist much for fear of toppling the both of them over. He linked his ankles around Craig's ass to keep his position. "You're expecting me to go snowboarding later. I am not sleeping with you right now."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Craig teased as he took slow, deliberate steps back into the bedroom.

Tweek leaned back, hands pressed against Craig's chest, so he could give Craig a stern look. "You know what I mean."

"I know exactly what you mean," Craig said. He plopped Tweek down on the bed and started to shrug out of his jacket. "Can I have a few kisses at least?"

Tweek feigned like he was mulling it over for a while. "That sounds reasonable."

"Good. I like reasonable." Craig climbed onto the bed and brought his arms to either side of Tweek's folded thighs.

"Since when do you like reasonable?" Tweek ghosted rhetorically, an attempt in vain to delay Craig's imminent lips from closing on his own.

It didn't work. Tweek couldn't say he really minded. Craig palmed Tweek out of his jacket, which got tossed onto the floor with Craig's, as their kiss deepened. He let Craig guide him onto his back against the plush white comforter. They were laying sideways across the bed - it was a king size, Tweek didn't think his feet would hang off the end no matter how he slept on the mattress. Craig curled his fingers into Tweek's hair, the pads of his fingers working against his scalp.

It felt good. This whole thing felt good, and that was unexpected... but Tweek didn't let his mind get caught up in contemplating the fact that they were seventy five miles outside of South Park, holed up in a three star hotel on the outskirts of Denver, alone. Well, maybe he did let his brain toy with the idea for a moment. More specifically, the fact that he wasn't losing his mind over it all.

Craig ran his tongue over Tweek's lower lip. It was all teeth and tongue after that. Tweek let his hands fist in the fabric of Craig's hoodie - fresh, like detergent (err, _laundry sauce_ ), he must have done laundry - as Craig's knuckles kneaded at Tweek's hip bone. He started to tease the fabric of Tweek's top.

"What's that?" Craig asked, his fingers curling over the front pocket of the hoodie.

"Phone charger," Tweek mumbled out. "Remember?"

Craig chuckled and shook his head. "Right."

Tweek shimmied out of his sweatshirt. Craig helped him out of it, then caught Tweek's arm as he settled against the pillows.

"Hm?"

Craig smiled, eyelids heavy, and guided Tweek so he was sitting on Craig's lap. That was new - Tweek didn't think he'd ever, uh, been _on top_ before.

It was a bit awkward at first. He liked that he could usually let go when Craig was with him. Tweek could let Craig be in control of their bodies, guide their actions. He'd grown used to it, comfortable with it, so having the control shifted to him was… nice, actually. Tweek cupped either side of Craig's face gently. It took him a moment to realize he still needed to breathe.

"You okay?" Craig asked.

"You need to shave," Tweek said. He ran the pad of his thumb over Craig's upper lip with a sly grin.

"Well, you're out of luck. I didn't bring a razor."

Tweek chuckled. "Good thing I p-packed one, then."

Craig rolled his eyes. "Good thing," he repeated.

Tweek kissed him again as Craig ran his hands up Tweek's arms. His hairs stood on end at the sensation, a ticklish feeling of excitement curling in his belly and groin. They had the whole weekend like this. Tweek took his time relearning the contours of Craig's mouth, then his throat and collarbones with his lips, Craig's sweatshirt pushed awkwardly to the side while he explored his skin. Okay, maybe they could fool around a bit before heading out to the slopes, Tweek convinced himself.

Craig shifted so he could lift the sweatshirt over his head. Tweek swallowed, heart thrumming, and he leaned back in to catch Craig's lips. He didn't get quite that far before a loud, insistent knock came at their door.

Craig groaned, head lolling backward. It connected with a thud against the headboard.

"Maybe if we ignore it, they'll go away?" Tweek proposed.

The knock came again.

A coy smile from Craig. "Right. Doubt it."

Tweek climbed off Craig's lap with a sigh and Craig stood up. He took a moment to adjust himself and headed off to the door. Tweek craned his neck to see who it was.

"Hey!" It was Kenny. Groan. "We're pregaming in Clyde's room if you aren't too busy… uh, well, doing whatever it is you guys do." Kenny poked his head around Craig and gave an incredibly salacious wink and thumb's up to Tweek.

Craig turned to look at Tweek as well.

"Um, yeah." Tweek smoothed his hair down and cleared his throat as he got to his feet. "I could probably use a d-drink before we go."

"Sweet. Room 404. I'll let you guys finish up." Another dubious wink from Kenny before he scampered off down the hall.

Craig shut the door with a heavy sigh. "Well, I guess it's about that time," he said.

Tweek nodded, lips pursed. "Yep." He scooped up their sweatshirts and made his way over.

"Thanks."

They left the room after Tweek made absolutely sure (three times over) that they had their room keys at their disposal, and, of course, Craig's ID just on the off chance they lost the keys. The door to Clyde's room was propped open. Craig ushered Tweek in ahead of himself.

Token was setting up what looked to be a minibar on the desk next to the entertainment system. Tweek was quick to notice that their room had a pretty boring view of the parking lot - Craig really had arranged for them to have the best room.

"Where's Kenny?" Craig asked candidly.

"He ran to get some cups," Token said. "For some reason, it didn't occur to me to bring any."

"That's dumb. How else did you think we'd get drunk?" Clyde asked, engrossed in his cell phone. "Cupping vodka with our hands like savages?"

"I don't see any cups in your bag, dick," Token shot off.

"True. Got me there."

Tweek made his way into the room and started to thumb through the selection of games that Token had brought with him. _Call of Duty_ , _Star War_ s… Tweek hoped he wouldn't have to listen to them bitch about _Overwatch_ again.

"What's that door for?" Tweek asked, glancing up to the extra door that occupied a wall of the room. It looked too nondescript to be a closet.

"It's a connecting door," Clyde answered. "To Stan and Kyle's room. We're gonna open it later. You know, make one big room. It'll be cool."

"How come they're n-not in here?"

Token shrugged. "Still unpacking, I guess."

Kenny noisily came into the room with a plethora of cups cradled precariously in his arms. "You think they know why we need all these?" he asked with a grin.

"Most definitely," Craig said, eyeing the stack of glasses. He took some off Kenny's hands, clearly not trusting Kenny's abilities to keep hold of them all. "So let's keep it quiet, yeah?"

"Pshh, what? You think they're gonna kick us out?"

"You guys, maybe," Craig continued. "I can always slip off to my room."

"That's fair," Clyde drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Craig shrugged. "Not really my problem."

"Don't worry, Craig," Kenny cooed. He skirted around the guys and leaned over to Tweek, pinching his side playfully. "We won't fuck up your little honeymoon with Tweek."

"You better not," Craig grumbled.

"Besides, if anyone's gonna get a noise complaint tonight…"

Tweek blushed a dusky shade of red. "Cut it out, Kenny."

"Mm, good." Kenny patted Tweek's cheek with a grin. Tweek pushed his hand away. "Finally sticking up for yourself."

Tweek rolled his eyes, but Kenny had already lost interest in teasing them and was eagerly starting in on one of the drinks that Token began to pass out. Tweek took his own glass and looked down at it skeptically.

"It's Kinky," Token said, taking notice of Tweek's hesitance.

"It's w-what?" he hitched.

"Vodka. Kinky vodka. That's what it's called," Token elaborated, shaking his head.

Craig chuckled. "It's pretty good, actually. Tastes like punch."

"No shame in fruity drinks," Kenny said. He flopped onto the bed and stretched out next to Clyde, offering him a taste.

"Who said there was shame in it?" Tweek asked, taking a tentative sip. Oh. He liked that.

"He means it's a girly drink," Craig answered for him.

"That's d-dumb."

"Yeah."

Token pulled out his phone and connected it to a small portable speaker he'd brought along with him. Tweek perked up at the selection.

"Remember to keep it quiet," Craig reminded as he pulled up one of the arm chairs from the corner of the room.

"Yeah, yeah," Token dismissed.

"I didn't know you liked The Doors," Tweek said.

"Best era of music, my friend," Token hummed happily.

Craig chuffed.

"I like your music too," Tweek consoled, sending Craig a knowing look. All he received for the comment was a pink tongue stuck out beneath a half smile, and Craig pulling Tweek into his lap.

"New development," Kenny chimed. He lifted his phone up in the air to get everyone's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Cartman's back with Heidi," Kenny announced.

Tweek didn't have to look at Craig to know he was rolling his eyes. "Anything that's, you know, _actually_ surprising from the _Gossip Girl_ corner?" he asked sarcastically.

"Huh. Gossip girl. I like that," Kenny said. He looked over to Clyde.

"How pissed you think Bebe's gonna be?" Clyde asked without missing a beat.

"Check Heidi's wall, dude. She's all over that shit."

"Why are you guys like this?" Token teased, but he'd padded over to the bed they were stretched out on to survey the internet drama.

Clyde looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's just fucking funny. Better than that teen drama shit they put on Netflix."

"Oh, fuck you, dude. _Riverdale_ is fucking awesome," Kenny challenged.

"What?" Clyde balked.

"Just watch it some time. You'll love it."

"I think I'll not be doing that," Clyde said with a laugh.

"Jesus Christ," Craig mumbled from beneath Tweek, who was also laughing at the bizarre exchange.

After the second round of drinks were passed out, Kenny sat up from his position discussing social drama and the inner workings of high school programs. "Where the hell are Stan and Kyle?" he asked. "They're missing all the action."

"Did you tell them which room we're in?" Token asked, unfazed.

"Well, duh. They're just next door," Kenny said.

"Go get them, then."

Kenny pursed his lips. "Just open the connecting door. Saves me the trouble."

"You do it. You're the one that's so concerned about it," Clyde suggested. He lazily dragged his leg over to toe Kenny off the bed.

"Fi-i-ine," Kenny hissed. He stalked over to the door and tried it, but it didn't open under the minimal force he applied. "It's stuck."

"You sure it's not locked?" Craig asked.

Kenny shrugged dramatically. "I dunno man, I don't know how these things work."

Craig tapped Tweek's leg to get him off his lap. "I'll take a look."

"What?" Kenny challenged. "You don't think I'm strong enough to open it?"

Craig raised an eyebrow. "I literally didn't even say that."

Tweek watched the two of them gather at the door. Token glanced over from his position playing bartender.

"You just gotta…" Craig braced his shoulder against the door. The handle turned in his hand as he leaned into it, and the door gave with the cracking sound of paint coming away from the threshold. He ended up stumbling forward a bit - Tweek lost sight of Craig, but he did catch the confused yelling and Kenny's wide eyes and open mouth.

"What's going on?" Token asked, concern growing in his tone. He shouldered Kenny out of the way - his expression was just as perturbed. Tweek got to his feet.

"Oh, shit. Fuck, I'm sorry!" Craig clamored, finally finding his voice. He backed out of the room and almost ran into Tweek as he blocked the doorway, but not before Tweek caught a glimpse of what the fuss was all about.

Kyle was standing, eyes wide and horrified, in front of the entertainment system. He had his arms wrapped around his chest, trying to conceal a… a bra? Tweek swung his head back into the other room and swallowed. Oh.

"What the fuck do you think you guys are doing?" Stan's voice barked. Craig, Kenny, and Token were ushered backward as Stan came into the doorframe.

"Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?" Clyde grumbled, annoyed, from his spot on the bed.

"Don't worry about it," Craig grunted. He was flushed a deep shade of red - Tweek had never seen him look embarrassed in front of others before, but the feeling and expression seemed to permeate everyone involved.

"Are you serious right now?" Stan spluttered. "You can't just… Kyle was…"

"It's fine."

Stan turned around to look for the source of the statement, hand on the door handle like he was contemplating whether or not to shut it in everyone's face.

"It's fine," Kyle repeated. "They were going to find out eventually."

"No! It's not fine!" Stan howled. The door was slammed after that, leaving the rest of them to stand in stunned silence.

"Did we just…" Token trailed off and glanced between the rest of them.

"Mind filling me in?" Clyde asked, exasperated, over the loud touseling coming from the next room over. No one wanted to be the first to break the news because, well, it wasn't really their news to break. The door opened again. This time it was Kyle.

"Hey. Well, this is awkward," he started.

Craig ran a hand through his hair and headed back to his arm chair. Tweek followed. Token reached for one of the drinks he'd poured and handed it, lips held tightly shut, to Kyle. He'd put a shirt on, but the hat that usually concealed his unruly hair was missing. Tweek didn't remember the last time he'd seen Kyle without it, and like every time before that, he was jarred by the long brassy curls.

Clyde groaned dramatically. "What is going o-o-on?" he demanded.

Kyle took a pointed gulp of his drink. "I think I might be a girl," Kyle said. There was an air of confidence in Kyle's voice that Tweek hadn't been expecting. "I, uh… I'm not sure on the details or anything, but I know that it makes a hell of a lot more sense to me than, well, anything else."

"Oh. Cool." Clyde went back to looking at his phone.

"I, um… I'm sorry," Craig cut in. "For barging in like that. I didn't mean to, you know… if you weren't ready to, um. To say anything."

Kyle shook their head and took another sip of the drink. "No, I know. It's fine. Really."

"We won't say anything," Token added. "If you don't want us to."

Kyle took a moment to think. "Yeah, I mean, I'll tell people when I'm ready. You don't have to like, treat me any differently though."

Token cleared his throat. "So, do you want us to use girl pronouns for you, or…"

Kyle waved him off, frowning. "I don't want it to be complicated or anything. Until I decide if this is something that I really, you know, am sure about, don't worry about it."

"Okay."

Kenny, who had been standing silently to the side during the exchange, stepped in behind Kyle to poke his head into the next room. "So that's your secret girlfriend!" he called.

Kyle cast him a strange glance. "It's not like that!" Stan's voice came, huffy.

Kenny started to laugh, shaking his head, then wrapped his arms around Kyle. "Good for you," he said, giving Kyle a good squeeze.

"Thanks, Ken," Kyle answered, patting Kenny's back. "Knew you'd be supportive."

"Supportive? I'm ecstatic. Glad you're being honest with yourself. Now let's get Stan a drink before he blows another gasket."

"I heard that!" Stan hissed.

Kenny kept his lazy grin in place as he peeled himself off of Kyle. "Well, that settles it, then. Definitely sleeping in Clyde and Token's room tonight."

Tweek chewed on his lip for a moment. "That makes you kind of a… a seventh wheel, then."

"Clyde and I are _not_ shacking up," Token said pointedly.

"Oh, dude. Don't worry about me. I've got some hookups around here. Worse comes to worse, I'll find a _snow bunny_ or two tonight to go home with," Kenny put in, his signature sly grin blooming on his face.

Kyle snorted. "You seem pretty sure of yourself, there."

"Don't be jealous, my friend."

The tension in the room promptly broke. Kyle returned to their room to collect Stan, who continued to sulk for a while afterwards, but after Token broke out the Goldschlager in celebration of Kyle's newfound identity, he began to relax. Tweek was keen to notice that much more than an hour had passed since they'd settled into their rooms. Craig seemed to catch on to that as well, because he stood up and stretched after they'd each had a few more drinks and announced that they were heading out.

Tweek headed off to collect his snow gear as the rest of their group piled snowboards into the hallway. After he was sufficiently bundled, he made his way over. Kenny was examining one of the boards that Token had brought along with him.

"I like this one," he settled, toying with the straps. "Cool design."

"Hey, uh, Tweek?" Craig asked. "How much do you weigh?"

Tweek clammed up, glancing around at everyone in their jackets and goggles. "D-Does that matter?"

Craig pursed his lips. "Yeah, a bit. For the snowboard. Token's might be a bit long for you - it goes by height and weight."

"Um." Well, he didn't actually know the answer to that question, and even if he did, announcing his slight frame to each of his more… well-endowed friends wasn't exactly the kind of personal information that he wanted to share. "I'm not really sure," Tweek admitted.

"Huh. Okay. Should probably use Ruby's board today. I mean, if you're cool with it."

At least it wasn't hot pink. Tweek took the snowboard from Craig and let out a long breath, somewhere between a sigh of annoyance and relief. It felt heavier in his hands than he'd expected.

They didn't have to wait long for the shuttle in front of the hotel. It was a fairly straightforward process, and Tweek spent the ride bouncing his knee next to Craig in an attempt to calm his nerves. Craig reassured him that everything would be fine between chatting with the rest of their group. Of course it would be. Tweek was in unfamiliar territory, but he had Craig at his side.

Craig started him off, as he'd promised, on the bunny hill. Tweek worried his lip for the first hour, insisting that Craig could go off and fly down the intimidatingly tall mountain slopes with everyone else, but he got a stern _like hell I'd leave you out here all alone_. A few bailouts in snowbanks later, Tweek thought he was getting the hang of it.

"See? Told you it wasn't that difficult," Craig congratulated at the bottom of the hill.

"I still need to work out the stopping part," Tweek said as he waddled to the ski lift. "Pretty sure falling on my ass at the b-bottom doesn't constitute a successful run."

"Eh, whatever works."

Craig convinced him after a few more runs down the hill that they were ready to take on something a bit more challenging. They met up with Clyde and Kenny at the top of one of the smaller trails and, surprisingly, Tweek didn't have as awful of a time as he'd expected. In fact, he thought somewhere deep down, he might actually be having fun. The sun had started to set when they all congregated at the top of one of the more difficult trails.

"All right. So, I'm gonna have to meet you at the bottom on this one," Craig started. Tweek shivered a bit and looked over the small lump of a hill that marked the start of the course. "I'll be with you for the first bit, but the path splits off. Make sure you go left, okay?"

"Why's that?"

"The part that goes to the right is black diamond," Stan explained. "It's for experts, like us."

Craig snorted. "Don't be like that. Tweek, just make sure you stay to the left path. It's not as steep. Less trees to run into. Okay?"

Tweek adjusted his goggles, staying behind while Kyle and Stan took the lead. Kenny took off after them with an excited yelp, followed by Token.

"The left," Tweek reminded himself quietly.

Craig patted him encouragingly on the back. "You ready? Just stay on the trail. You'll see us at the bottom."

He had half a mind to just hop the ski lift back down to the bottom, but Tweek resolved himself to follow through, if only for Craig. The chalet wasn't in sight at the bottom like it had been on the previous courses. Trees were blocking most of the view.

"Okay." Craig let him go first.

The snow was less worn than Tweek had grown accustomed to. He spent the first bit weaving back and forth across the slope, trying not to pay much mind to the occasional lost hat or glove poking out of the banks at the edges of the course. Craig overtook him and Tweek watched him cut to the right, following a series of signs painted with warnings and giant black rhombi. Stay to the left. Stay to the left. Stay to the left.

Craig disappeared from view and Tweek had to swerve to correct himself from the path of an oncoming tree watching as he went. If he fell all alone out there, Tweek wasn't sure how long it would be before someone came to his aid. Minutes? Hours? He passed what looked to be a security camera on his way. Well, at least if he cracked his skull open, there would be some closure for his family and friends.

It felt like he was arcing down the trail for hours alone. After the initial fear abated, Tweek found himself enjoying the solitude. In a way, he felt like he was flying. He wondered how birds managed in the cold like that with the wind whipping angrily at every exposed crevice of his skin. As more time went on, Tweek began to get concerned that he was lost and might never reach the bottom, but as he came around a particularly sharp bend with some degree of difficulty, he saw the chalet. He'd reached the part of the slopes where most of the trails converged. All right, he could do this.

He stayed to the side for fear of crashing into one of the other adventurous snow lovers pouring down the mountain. It was easy to pick out where the group had convened by Kenny's bright orange parka - he was almost there. The slope started to steepen toward the bottom and the snow was worn flat enough that his casual side-to-side movement didn't do much by way of slowing him down. Gaining speed, Tweek began to let the doubt creep back in as he braced himself for impact. The bottom of the slope came up faster than he'd expected it to. He was going much too fast to execute one of those graceful curves that kicked up a shower of snow as he came to a halt, so Tweek coasted a bit until the padded security wall presented itself as no other option.

Tweek threw his arms up to catch most of the impact. The foam wall didn't provide anything to grapple with so he ended up on his ass, yet again, but unharmed from his efforts. Craig was at his side before he even had time to blink.

"You did it, bud."

The sky was a dusky shade of purple, only obscured by Craig's grinning face as he leaned over Tweek. "N-Not really."

Craig helped him to his feet as Tweek brushed off the snow he'd gotten covered in. "Yeah, you did. All by yourself. You kicked that mountain's ass," Craig congratulated.

Head spinning, Tweek looked around a moment. The rest of their group was heading their way, snowboards in hand and looking thoroughly exhausted. "I fell down again," Tweek said glumly.

"It's your first day on a snowboard, Tweek. You're gonna fall down. It's part of life," Craig soothed. He knelt to help Tweek out of the straps on his board, which Tweek was thankful for, because he was starting to feel wobbly from the adrenaline loss. "But you got back up in the end. That's what counts."

Craig took the snowboard off Tweek's hands and looped his free arm around Tweek's side. "Thanks. You're right. It wasn't as b-bad as I thought."

"I'll take credit for that, yeah," Craig chuckled.

"You two lovebirds done flirting with each other?" Kenny asked as he came up on them. "We're gonna go get some hot chocolate inside."

"Is there coffee?" Tweek asked, turning to Craig again. "You said there would be coffee."

"Of course there's coffee."

Tweek definitely liked it better in the chalet where it was warm. A fire was in a giant brick enclosure in the middle of the open room, which he made a grateful beeline for. Craig came up on him juggling two paper cups and the snowboards. Tweek accepted the coffee with a smile.

"You did really good today," Craig said as he settled into place on the pockmarked leather couch. "Thanks for agreeing to it."

"You're welcome. But I think I should b-be the one that's thanking you."

"Oh? Why's that?" Craig asked. He pulled off his jacket and stretched, holding back a yawn.

Tweek shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't know I could do any of that," he said.

"'Course you can. You can do anything you want."

A blush crept its way up Tweek's skin and he was struck with how warm he felt under all the layers he'd bundled up in. He followed suit and draped his discarded jacket over his knees. Craig shouldered closer to him.

"Can I have a kiss?" Craig asked.

Tweek glanced up at Craig. He felt small sitting next to him, but at the same time, somehow more accomplished. It dawned on him that he felt like he'd finally earned the right to be there. With Craig. "Yeah."

Craig pressed his mouth to Tweek's cheek. His lips were chapped a bit, he noticed, as Craig kissed him again at the corner of his mouth. Tweek leaned into the embrace and kissed Craig back.

"You really need t-to shave," Tweek mumbled into Craig's lips.

That elicited a hearty laugh from Craig. "You think so?" he said loudly. Tweek felt Craig cup the sides of his face with cold fingers and he started to squirm under the dozen kisses Craig peppered his face with.

"Yes, I think so!" Tweek groaned.

"People are starting to stare at you two," a voice came from behind them. They both whipped around to see Token leaning over the back of the couch.

"Voyeur," Craig accused jokingly. "Let them stare."

Token laughed. "The shuttle is gonna leave in ten minutes. We were thinking of heading out to dinner after we drop all the gear off."

"What did you have in mind?" Tweek asked.

"I dunno," Token said, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Stan and Kyle were thinking Casa Bonita."

"Sounds good to me," Craig chimed. "We have to make a quick detour before dinner though."

"For what?"

Craig tilted his head from side to side, contemplating, eyes skyward. "I got Tweek a present. You guys should all fit in Stan's car, so we can meet you there."

"Cool cool," Token said before heading off to finish his drink with the others.

Tweek stared at Craig, waiting until Token was out of earshot. "What did you get me?"

"You'll see," Craig teased. He got to his feet and gathered his jacket. "It's the coolest thing. I promise."

"You know I don't like surprises," Tweek said as he followed suit. "What is it?"

"Oh, you'll like it. I'm sure of it."

They made their way out to the parking lot, Tweek still pestering Craig about the secret he was keeping, but Craig remained tight-lipped through the ride back to the hotel. The snowboards got piled into the closet in Stan and Kyle's room.

"Is it a pony?" Tweek guessed jokingly when they arrived at their room.

"You're close, but no cigar," Craig answered.

"What about t-two ponies?"

Craig started to change into more casual clothes as he shook his head. "You won't guess it. But I think two ponies would probably be cooler than what I got you, so you shouldn't let your expectations get ahead of yourself."

Tweek shook his head. "I don't actually like ponies," he said.

"Who doesn't like ponies?" Craig challenged.

A shrug. "Me?"

"You're so weird, Tweek."

He stuck his tongue out at Craig as he finished slipping into his sneakers. "No, you."

"All right, all right. I wanted to give you this when we actually got there, but since you can't contain yourself…" Tweek tried to peer over Craig's shoulder as he rummaged around in his bag.

"You got me an envelope?" Tweek asked, taking hold of the card that was handed to him.

Craig rolled his eyes and made for the door. "Yep, your very own. You're an adult now, it's time you get utilitarian gifts for Christmas," he joked.

Tweek raised his eyebrows as he followed Craig into the hall. "I didn't think you knew that word."

"Give me more credit than that," Craig teased. They ran into the other five idling in the elevator bay. Tweek palmed the envelope in his hands as they waited. Craig pulled out his phone.

"When do you think you guys will get to the restaurant?" Clyde asked impatiently.

"We won't be long," Craig answered. "Where we're going looks like it's only gonna be a… ten minute drive from here. And it's kind of on the way to Casa Bonita."

"Good, 'cause I'm not waiting for an hour on you two before I order my food. I'm starving," Clyde complained. Token elbowed his side to quiet him.

Tweek almost wished he'd stayed swathed in the gear he'd shed when they made it outside. With the sun gone, the temperature had dropped considerably. They waited in Craig's car for a few minutes as it warmed up.

"You're not going to open it?" Craig asked, casting Tweek a quizzical glance.

"Well, you said you wanted me to wait until we got there."

"I mean, you don't have to," he added as they pulled onto the road.

Tweek turned the envelope over in his hands. "It's dark in the car. I wouldn't be able to r-read it anyway."

"Here." Craig reached up to turn the cabin light on.

"Isn't that illegal?" Tweek clamored.

Craig shook his head. "No, that's just a myth your parents tell you," he said.

"Oh."

Tweek lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out the card inside. It was a soft blue, covered in glitter snowflakes that left Tweek's fingers with a dusting of sparkles. "Nice choice," he teased.

Craig glanced over at him. "My mom actually helped me pick it out."

Tweek balked. "For real? I thought your mom didn't like me," he said quickly.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" Craig laughed. "No, my parents don't hate you, Tweek. They just know I'm not the best at, uh, making good decisions. If anything, they're worried I'm gonna fuck your life up."

Tweek ran the pad of his thumb over the glitter. "I don't think you've fucked my life up," he responded.

"Oh, my God. Stop. The card is sappy enough. Just open it already."

The first thing Tweek noticed was the giftcard that slid out, then the logo on it. "Holy shit, Craig," Tweek squeaked.

"Told ya you'd like it," Craig beamed happily.

"A hundred bucks? I can get that set for Necromunda," Tweek rattled. "I didn't think you even knew what Games Workshop was."

"I thought we had this conversation - give me more credit than that," he laughed.

Tweek shook his head, his grin threatening to swallow him up as he opened the card entirely. The inside was scrawled in Craig's blocky handwriting, spelling mistakes to boot.

 _Babe -_

 _I wish I could say I'm not really good at this kind of thing, but that'd be a lie. You melt my heart and bring out the sticky gooy romantic side of me. You're my bread and butter. The creame to my coffee. Haha. Thank you for always having my back and being paitiant with me. For sticking by my side even when I'm kind of a jerk sometimes. Just know that I love you with all my heart and every day I try to be a better boyfriend cuz I couldn't imagine my life without you._

 _\- Craig_

"Oh, my God, Craig," Tweek said into his hands. "You're t-too much, you know that? Like, really. What the hell did I do to deserve someone like you?"

The car came to a stop outside the store. "Nuthin'," Craig answered. "Just being you is enough."

Tweek shook his head again and peered between his fingers at the bright game store in front of them.

"You're not gonna cry on me, are you?" Craig asked behind a nervous laugh.

"No!" Tweek shot off. "No, I'm not. I'm just happy. That's all."

"Well, that's a relief." Craig got out of the car and Tweek scrambled excitedly to keep up. He nearly slipped on a patch of ice in his effort, but Craig caught him before Tweek lost his footing.

"Thanks," Tweek said, breathless. "For the present. And the weekend, too."

"For sure." Craig held the door and Tweek shuffled inside and, like a kid in a candy store, he buzzed from display case to shelf, eyeing all the models and books the store had to offer. Craig followed him around the store for a bit, humming and hawing patiently (and with a smile, no less) as Tweek chattered on about each of the models they came across.

"Thank you, thank you, _thankyou_ ," Tweek chanted as he settled on the box set that he wanted. It took both his hands to carry to the counter, and came with a hefty price tag to match. He took out his wallet to cover the difference, but Craig put his hand out to stop him.

"I got it. Heh, didn't realize this stuff was so expensive or I woulda gotten you a bigger giftcard," he said.

"No, it's fine. I can c-cover it," Tweek offered.

"Really. It's okay. Is there anything else you wanted?"

The man behind the counter eyed them interestedly as Tweek shuffled his feet. "I mean, if it's okay with you, I need a couple more paints for this army."

"Go get them, then," Craig said. Tweek scampered off to the next aisle to mull over his selection. He grabbed a few paints, casting Craig the occasional glance over the shelves. He was chatting with the clerk, but when Craig noticed Tweek peeking over at him, he gave Tweek a thumb's up.

Tweek returned with a handful of colors. Craig was turning a keychain over in his hands. "I kind of like this guy. It's pretty gnarly looking."

"That's Slaanesh," Tweek and the shopkeeper said in unison. Craig looked up and glanced between the two of them, fighting back a chuckle.

"It's the chaos god of lust," Tweek elaborated, a little embarrassed. "It's actually not r-really a guy, but something kind of in the middle."

"Oh. I like that it looks like a lizard alien," Craig said, clearly out of his element. "And the red eyes are pretty cool."

"That gonna be it for you guys?" the clerk asked.

"Yeah. I think that should about do it," Craig answered. The clerk started ringing up the items. "How much is the Slaanesh keychain?"

The clerk reached for it and passed it under the barcode reader. "Tree fiddy."

* * *

((Author's Note: Alas! The journey has come to an end for Tweek and Craig. My boys! I just wanted to give a quick thanks to those of you who have stuck with this story as it has developed. I really appreciate the fantastically well-written feedback. It's been a real pleasure writing this fic.

Honestly, when I wrote the first chapter, I'd only seen a single episode of South Park - the famed _Put it Down_ episode. Over the course of the last four months, I've binged the entire show, studied the characters, memorized their Wiki pages, and, of course, played the SHIT out of _Fractured But Whole_. (Literally!) South Park has become one of my all-time favorite shows. The community has been incredibly receptive and welcoming as well, and I look forward to writing more for you guys. If you could spare a moment, I'd love to hear your feedback in a review or private message. It's important to me as an aspiring writer to understand how you perceive the characters, themes, world building, and dialogue. It helps me improve and continue to produce better, more original content.

Thanks again for sticking by Study Hard, Party Harder. I hope you all had a great ride! *cue the Primus outro*))


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